Fighting Words
by sleeplessinatlanta
Summary: Collection of one-shots. Some heated words, an argument, and tons of B/B hotness. Smut, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, all revolving around our favorite crime-solvers. One fight for each letter of the alphabet. COMPLETE.
1. Academia

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

I know, "what is she doing starting another story?" you gasp in horror. But unfortunately, gotta go where the inspiration takes you. And for this you can blame **Sheytune** and her delicious idea. If you haven't read Sheytune's _Are you Ready to Fight?_ go read it now 'cause it's amazing and this is pretty much an M-rated version of that. One fight per letter of the alphabet and BB hotness as they make up. Thank-you so much for letting me steal your brilliant idea and smuttying(is that a word?) it up!!! :)

We've started with a mild M but I expect these will get quite smutty. Hope you enjoy and let me know your suggestions for the next letter, for every single one I will use a reader suggestion cause I just think that's more fun :)

**ACADEMIA**

* * *

"So, how was your date with Professor Boring?"

"It's Professor Berring, Booth," she corrected. "And it was fine, we had the most fascinating discussion about the endemic birth of dictatorial regimes in third-world countries. He's very knowledgeable on the topic."

"Right," Booth said dejectedly. _God, he didn't stand a chance._ Dr. Temperance Brennan was so far out of his league, it was ridiculous. She was on the top floor of the ivory tower; he couldn't even walk into the building. "Are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know," she mused. "He's a very well-respected professor, quite brilliant in his discipline really, with a very impressive list of accomplishments. He's been published extensively in the _International Journal of Sociology and Anthropology_."

"So, that kind of stuff really does it for you, huh?" he couldn't help blurting out, maybe just a tad bitterly.

"What?" She turned to look at him as they walked out of the diner together.

"You know, all that academic, scholarly, I've got-multiple-degrees-you-can't-even-pronounce, and been published every damn where stuff." All right, so he just couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, sue him.

"It's that what you think about me?" She didn't open the door to get in the car; instead she looked at him with wide, troubled eyes. "You think that's what I care about? Number of degrees and publication rate?"

"What? No … I … no, that's not what I meant," Booth stammered, startled by the accusatory tone to her voice.

"Then what did you mean?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her.

"I don't know, Bones," he huffed in frustration. "I guess I just meant … a lot of these guys you date are … you know …"

"What?" she taunted, irked by his condescending attitude. "Brilliant, accomplished, interesting?"

"No," he snapped, whirling around and losing his cool at her smug voice. "Boring, dull, pompous …" With every word he advanced forward until he was standing in front of her and almost without realizing it, he grabbed her shoulders. " … jackasses, who wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you, even if they had a damn manual."

"But you would know, right?" she whispered silkily, placing her palms on his chest, her entire body heating up as she felt his racing heartbeat. "Is that what you're telling me, Booth?"

"You know I would," he growled, pressing her flush against him, uncaring of the consequences. He just couldn't hold back anymore, the argument had clearly devolved past the point of no return and he couldn't bring himself to care. Because he was finally holding her in his arms and that was all that mattered. "Fuck yeah, Bones," he whispered, running his lips along the curve of her jaw. "I know exactly what to do with you. Do you know what to do with me?"

"What do you think?" She rotated her pelvis against him and Booth ran his hands from her shoulders to grab her hips as he ground her against the side of the car.

"Yes … shit yes, Bones," he panted against her neck. "You know _exactly_."

"I also know why you are so hard on academia," she told him as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed kisses to his throat.

"Because … because damn, Bones, it reminds me that you are way too good …"

"Stop right there," she interrupted. "Don't say it because it's not true."

"Bones," he whispered, kissing her fervently and forgetting that he was groping his partner against the side of his car in the middle of the day.

"I want you," she finally confessed, pressing herself harder against his erection, she couldn't get close enough. "Booth, you make me feel safe, you make me feel happy."

"I'm a damn idiot," he conceded, running his hands under her blouse and caressing her smooth stomach.

"Higher," she moaned and he groaned, moving his hands up and cupping her breasts.

He fondled her through the bra for a few seconds before snatching his hands back and wrapping his arms around her. "Fuck, fuck, we can't do this here."

"But we _are_ doing this, right?" she clarified.

"Oh, damn right we are," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'll pick you up after work?"

"Yes, please."

"It's a date, Bones."

Booth smiled ecstatically; he would no longer be asking her how her dates went, because from now on, he would have firsthand knowledge.


	2. Blonde

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

**_Sweet Psychologist'_**s suggestion, seconded by _**JessilynM**_ resulted in this. Thanks so much to everyone who suggested ideas for **B**, Blind and Bones were intriguing choices but in the end I couldn't stay away from jealous Brennan, even though I'd say this goes beyond jealousy. Read on and let me know what you think! And don't forget to leave your suggestions for **C** :)

Enjoy!

**BLONDE**

**

* * *

**

"What's wrong with her?" Angela inquired as Brennan swept by, lips tightly compressed and that frown line between her eyes.

"No idea," Booth shrugged as he stood next to Angela, looking at his partner through the glass walls of her office. "We just interviewed a witness and on the way over here she got more and more tense."

"Did you guys have a fight?" Angela wondered, studying her friend with a critical eye.

"No," Booth frowned in confusion. "But I'm getting the feeling I did something and I have no idea what so I'm thinking we are about to have our first fight."

"First fight …?" But her voice trailed off as she realized what he meant. "I get it, first fight since you started doing the horizontal mambo, right?" She laughed out loud at the uncomfortable look that immediately crossed his face. "Oh Booth, don't worry, I'm sure the make-up sex will be well worth the fight."

"Shut up, Angela," he grumbled, heading towards his partner's office. He walked in and studied her like one might study a dangerous explosive.

"Bones …" But that was as far as he got.

"Booth, I have a lot of work to do," her voice was cool and unemotional and he was starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I'll call you when I have any further information on the victim."

"Fine, but I think we need to …" his phone rang and when he looked at the caller ID, Booth knew this conversation would have to wait.

"Booth," he answered. "Yes, I'm about to … on my way, sir." Hanging up, he looked back at the one woman capable of driving him absolutely crazy. "That was Cullen, I have to go." When she didn't even glace away from the computer, he pressed his lips together to hold back the foul word that was just itching to escape. "Call me when you are done here and I'll come get you."

"I have my car, Booth," she responded calmly and he knew that was all he was going to get from her.

_Great_. _Just great_. He left with the beginnings of what could only be a tension headache and by the time end of shift rolled around he lost count of how many aspirins he downed. When he called the Jeffersonian to ask if Dr. Brennan was still in the building, he was informed that she had left half an hour ago.

No call, no email, no text. _Goddamn it_. He jerked off his tie in frustration and stuffed it into his jacket as he walked out of the building. By the time he got to her place, Booth wasn't sure whether to be pissed at the way she had completely shut down today or terrified at the possibility that one month into this and she might already be regretting it.

Since he liked the feel of angry and pissed a lot more than that of scared and panicked, he pounded on her door and went with the anger.

"What the hell, Bones," he yelled the minute she opened the door. "You are supposed to talk to me, not freeze me out like I'm the enemy."

"I realized something today and although it was upsetting, I must be realistic in my assessment." Brennan stepped back to let him in and didn't even try to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. "I wasn't trying to freeze you out," she said honestly. "I was just trying to organize my thoughts and emotions as rationally as possible."

"Emotions aren't really rational," he answered, the look on her face telling him he wasn't going to like whatever she had supposedly realized today.

"Booth," Brennan took a deep breath, the lump in her throat telling her that this was going to be even more difficult that she envisioned. "I think it's important to recognize that I do not fit the parameters, either physiological or psychological, that you tend to gravitate towards and which indicate that ultimately you will not be fulfilled with …"

"Bones," he interrupted horrified, she couldn't possibly be saying … "You gotta tell me in English, please, because I need to be sure I'm understanding this right."

"I am not socially adept, I am not gregarious, I am not blonde," she spat the last word out a little bit more bitterly than she intended. It wasn't really his fault he liked them blonde, was it? It was just the way things were. "While we may be sexually compatible, ultimately you do have an established preference for a certain type of woman, both in looks and personality, which I simply do not …"

"You have got to be kidding me!?" he interrupted once more, unsure whether to laugh or yell. "Is this because of our witness, today?" Booth thought back to the interview. The tiny blonde woman had flirted shamelessly with him and he flirted back because he had interviewed enough people to know that without the reciprocation he would not have gotten one single iota of information out of her.

"Well, yes," Brennan was on the verge of tears and she had no idea why. "Look, Booth, your interaction with that woman today just reminded me of the fact that …" her voice trailed off at the dangerous look in his eyes as he took a step in her direction.

"I was doing my job, Bones," he didn't scream it, but it was close. "I get information out of people, most of whom never want to give it to me, in whatever way I can."

"I know, Booth," she stood her ground, refusing to let him intimidate her. "It's not about her, okay, it's about the fact that it hit me that I'm not really your type, am I?" God, the realization had crashed over her today, leaving her nauseous and angry at the same time. "I know, I know you were doing your job, but the point is that woman, that's your type, just like Tessa, like Rebecca; tiny, blonde, vivacious, able to engage in flirtatious banter flawlessly because they understand the difference between what's literal and what's innuendo."

"What are you trying to say?" But he was down right pissed on one hand and panicking on the other because he damn well knew where she was going with this.

"I'm saying that ... I ... we, this," Brennan gestured vaguely between them. "We need to be realistic, I mean, rationally thinking, at some point you are going to realize that ... I'm not ... it's not your fault, it's just the way it is." She was babbling and she couldn't help it; it almost seemed like he could see right through her, his eyes dark and penetrating as he moved toward her.

"You know what," he growled, grabbing her shoulders and jerking her against him. "You are fucking full of it. You are running scared because it probably annoyed you to see me flirting with that woman today and since you can't admit jealousy without accepting the emotions behind it, you are fucking terrified."

"No," she denied, but her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket as if her life depended on it.

"Yes," his voice was low and intense, his eyes a little bit wild because her little speech had damn well freaked him out. "Just admit it, Bones. Admit it bothered you that she kept touching me, admit you hated the way she eye-fucked me during the entire interview."

Moving his hands to her waist, Booth lifted her easily and sat her on the dining hall table.

"And I'll admit the entire time I flirted back, in the back of my mind, I wondered whether it was making you a little bit upset." She was looking at him with wide, startled eyes but her hands had yet to let go of him. "The only reason that woman gave us anything today was because I played her game, but I couldn't help wonder whether you even cared that I had to."

"Fine," she spat, even as she opened her legs and he stepped in between them. "I fucking cared. But I also couldn't help but realize that I'm nothing like the …"

Booth crushed her mouth to his, swallowing the rest of her words, he'd heard all he needed to know. He ripped open the front of her blouse, popping every button, and she gasped into his mouth. But she didn't waste any time, ripping his own shirt open and scraping her nails possessively over his chest. She pushed the jacket and ruined shirt down his shoulders and used her teeth on him.

"I know you are not blonde, I know you take most things literally, and I remember it took you so long to realize I was flirting outrageously with you that I was starting to develop a complex," Booth gasped the words as his fingers shot into her hair and he pulled her head back so he could look into her eyes. "And I also know I love everything about you, I know I want you and I need you and I always will."

"You can't know that," Brennan protested, but her voice was unsteady because he gently pushed her down onto the table as he scattered a trail of kisses down her stomach. "You can't know how you'll feel, always."

"I can and I do." His hands dragged her underwear down along with the comfortable pants she had changed into once she'd gotten home. "And I'll wait, as long as I have to, until you know it too." Her legs fell open of their own volition and he fell on her, his tongue blazing a path right over her center. She was already damp, but with every stroke of his tongue, she got wetter and wetter.

"Booth …" her voice hitched, even as her hips pressed unconsciously into his mouth. "Please … get up here."

"Will the table …?" he asked but Booth wasn't sure he would have cared either way, the taste of her making him so hard he was ready to rip through his pants.

"Yes," she moaned, her fingers in his hair tugging him up. "It's solid oak."

Ridding himself of the clothes he was still wearing, Booth slid her a little further up and followed her onto the table. He looked down at her and almost forgot to breathe; her hair haloed out on the glossy surface, her skin rosy and flushed, her breasts rising and falling within the confines of the white bra she was still wearing.

Pressing a delicate kiss at the hollow of her throat, he slid into her slowly and whispered, "Don't run, baby."

"If I do," she gasped, hips surging up to meet him. "Will you …?"

"Yes," Booth answered immediately, pumping faster and lacing their fingers together on either side of her face. "I'll follow, wherever, whenever, as long as you want me to."

"I want you to," Brennan confessed, turning her head into the curve of his shoulder and trembling under him. "Ooooh, yeees!"

Feeling her clench around him, he let go too, releasing all the stress and worry, and panic of the day in one mind-blowing orgasm.

"_You_ are my type, Bones," he murmured into her ear, his hands running up and down the sides of her body in a soothing caress. "Silky dark hair, soft pale skin, genius IQ, best-selling novelist, dangerous with or without a gun, vegetarian, capable of rocking a Wonder Woman custom, oh so literal, deadly in a little black dress or a blue lab coat … the list goes on, but you get the point, right?"

"What's that, that blondes don't do it for you anymore?" she smiled teasingly, the nauseous feeling that had taken hold of her, gone for the first time since that damn interview.

"Just you, crazy one," he rumbled against the soft skin of her neck. "Only you do it for me anymore."


	3. Commitment

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Today's word comes courtesy of **berniej. **Thanks soooo much to everyone who left suggestions, I love them so don't forget D! Other intriguing choices included _Church_ and _Complications_! This is more of a fluffy fight, but hope you like!

Bonus points if you catch the pretty blatant reference to one of the earliest episodes :)

**COMMITMENT  


* * *

**

"Booth, are we living together?"

"_What?_" He choked on his spoonful of cereal, automatically reaching for a napkin so as not to get milk all over his tie.

"Well, I guess that's my answer." He looked so horrified that Brennan's immediate instinct was to backtrack. He was a guy after all and if there's one thing Angela had taught her was that guys were invariably commitment-phobic. "That's fine, Booth, I was just curious."

"Mm … do you … I mean … would you want …?" Booth's voice was tentative; she had caught him completely by surprise. He had been so careful not to crowd her, but lately they practically _had_ been living together. Was she saying she wanted to … but her answer quickly dashed his hopes.

"No!" she nearly yelled, his tentative question making her feel like she had to let him off the hanger or hook or whatever the hell the word was. _Oh my god, she was having a minor meltdown inside her own head. _ What had possessed her to bring this up in the first place?

"I don't …" She quickly got up from her chair and placed her bowl and glass in the sink. "Look, I think I'm just going to spend tonight at my place," she announced, grabbing her purse blindly and fleeing out the door.

"What the hell?" Booth just sat there, stunned. _What had just happened?_ For one glorious second he actually thought she wanted to live with him and then, in the next second, she was telling him that she didn't even want to spend the night.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Booth got up and went to work but he couldn't concentrate on much of anything. By lunch time, he knew he had to talk to his partner. If she freaked out this much at the slightest hint of a permanent commitment, they needed to have a talk. For God's sake they'd been together for almost a year now, she should not be freaking out like this.

Brennan watched her partner stride towards her office and she wasn't really surprised. Not only because they often had lunch together, but because he was likely going to demand an explanation for this morning. Looking back, Brennan thought maybe she hadn't handled things that well. She had kind of sprung the question on him out of nowhere, and he was entitled to some recovery time. She had a minor freak out at his apparent deer-caught-in-the-headlights (Angela taught her that one) look at her mention of living together, but though most guys would likely balk at the implications of such a commitment, Booth was not most guys.

_Booth is not a balker_, she remembered telling Angela years ago. And that continued to be as true now as it was then.

"Bones," he said the moment he walked in. "We need to talk."

"I know," she answered softly, rising from her chair and moving a little in his direction. Her quick agreement caught him a bit off guard, but he instantly recovered.

"Look, I know commitment is difficult for you, I know," he recognized, pacing a little."But, damn it, babe, you can't just freak out on me like this." She was looking at him with those big, blue eyes, and he was helpless not to go over and hug her. "Listen, we don't have to _actually_ move in together, we don't have to get married, I don't need any of that, but I do need to go to sleep with you in my arms every night and wake up next to you in the morning."

Booth felt her shake against him and thought she was crying. "Oh, baby, please don't … " he began, but stopped short when he realized she was laughing.

"Bones," he hissed, letting go of her. "This isn't funny!"

"Booth," she gasped, trying to control her mirth. "This morning, you looked so horrified when I mentioned living together I thought I had freaked _you_ out."

"What?" He was utterly confused. "Of course not, I was surprised, that's all."

"And I should have just told you," Brennan spoke softly as she wound her arms around him and pressed tiny kisses on his jaw. "I do want us to live together."

"You do?" he smiled foolishly, his arms going around her once more, his eyes slipping to half mast at the feel of her wet kisses.

"Mm-mm," Brennan confirmed, tangling her fingers in his hair and pressing herself against him. "If you want to, I want to also."

"Hell yes, I wanna live with you," he answered quickly, hands moving down to cup her ass and grind her a little against him.

Although the Jeffersonian was fairly deserted since most people had abandoned ship to go get lunch, they were still standing in her glass-wall office, so Booth walked them behind her desk. He leaned her against it and made sure to keep his eyes on the door so he could see anyone coming, even as he slid one hand under her gray pencil skirt.

"Anyone could see," Brennan pointed out, but she still parted her legs to give him better access.

"I know." And at work they were never anything other than utterly professional. But, damn it, she had just agreed to live with him, if he wanted to have his hands all over her, he should be allowed. "You want me to stop?" Though he already knew the answer because her head was already falling back as her eyes closed in pleasure.

"God, no," her breathing already out of control, even though his fingers were only caressing her inner thigh.

"You know you are going to have to go get us some lunch and bring it back here," Booth whispered, fingers moving up, agonizingly slow. "Because there's no way I'm going to be able to move after this."

"Deal," she panted, one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping the edge of her desk.

"What color are they today, Bones?" he asked wickedly, grazing the front of her panties with his fingertips.

"Don't you want to find out for yourself?"

"You shouldn't tease me when I'm about to make you feel so good." Booth rubbed through her panties, his eyes nearly crossing over at the dampness soaking through the material. "Tell me."

"Stroke me," she ordered instead.

"You first," he countered smoothly, lowering his head and sucking softly on the exposed column of her throat. He nibbled to one side of her neck, eyes flicking once more to the halls of the Jeffersonian, still mercifully empty.

"Blue," Brennan gave in, she knew when she didn't stand a chance. His fingers immediately slipped under the silky fabric and plunged into her.

"I'm going to rip them off you the minute I get you home tonight," he growled playfully, fingers sinking into her wet heat over and over until she pressed her face against his throat and moaned deliriously against him.

Cupping one hand on the back of her neck, he kissed her softly but sexily; tongue swiping lazily across her lips. His fingers were still inside her, massaging gently and bringing her back down from the high.

When he removed his hand, she plucked a tissue from her desk and cleaned his fingers. Once she was done, she threw it away and rested her head on his chest. His arms came around her, his cheek resting on top of her head.

"How am I going to get any work done when I'll be able to smell you on my fingers for the remainder of the day?" he sighed against her hair. "It's going to be no fun fighting back a hard-on the rest of the workday."

She giggled against his chest and he closed his eyes and grinned foolishly at the girlish sound. Oh man, he was going to wake up to her every damn day. _She wasn't freaking out_, he thought in wonder,_ she was committing_. Booth didn't think he was going to be able to stop smiling today.

"Hey, Bones," he said teasingly. "About the whole marriage thing …"

"Don't push your luck, Booth."

His laughter reverberated against her and she couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. Brennan was pretty sure she'd do anything to keep him laughing like that forever.


	4. Diner

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Thanks to **Dispatch22705** for the D-word. Other intriguing choices were dominance(ended up as a one-shot in Only Between Us), defiance(will end up as a one shot also), dare, and deception. These fights keep getting longer, it's hard to have them fight and make up in anything less than 3000 words :)

I am fully aware that Brennan is unlikely to make any big, romantic gestures, but I hope I have still kept it fairly in character. Enjoy and hope u let me know your suggestions for **E **or what you think of this :)**  
**

**DINER  


* * *

**

"Wow, they keep that up, they are gonna have to charge admission."

"What?" Brennan followed his line of sight to the couple two tables down; they were devouring each other as if breathable oxygen was a scarce resource they just had to conserve. "Mmm … they really should just take it into the bathroom."

"The bath …" Booth wasn't sure he heard correctly. "What are you talking about? They should take it into their bedroom." Shaking his head at her, he clarified, "You know, the privacy of their own home." He shook his head again. "Not the diner, jeez."

"Oh, come on, Booth, don't be such a prude," she smirked. "Sex in a public place can be highly stimulating and quite satisfying."

"Hey, I'm not a prude," he protested indignantly. "I just happen to think that sex should be private. For god's sake, this is the diner!"

"So what?" She wasn't backing down. "Sex can be in a public place like the diner and still be private, still be just about the two people involved in the act." Almost unthinkingly and because she wasn't used to censoring herself, Brennan added, "I've thought about having sex in the diner."

"_What?" _His shocked gasp made her regret her impulsive words, because she just knew he wasn't going to let it go. "When the hell have you thought about having sex in the diner?"

_Any number of times we've been here,_ she nearly blurted out. But for once, she had enough sense to filter her thoughts.

"I … just … you know," she was a tiny bit desperate to end this conversation and maybe that's why she said the entirely wrong thing. "Sometimes, I've met a date here and …"

"Stop," Booth nearly yelled, springing up from his chair. "That's just wrong, Bones," he hissed, outraged.

"Booth …" she reached out to touch him because he was so agitated, but he sprung back. "Wait, I just ..." She wasn't sure what to say but she knew her words had upset him. In fact, he looked fairly pissed.

"No!" _God, she just didn't get it_. He wondered if she ever would. "I don't want to hear it." Booth knew he was probably blowing things out of proportion, but damn it, the diner was _their _place. Why the hell was she thinking about having sex with other men here?

In his mind he could see all the things they'd shared here and then he could see her having sex with some faceless stranger in the bathroom. He squeezed his eyes shut to banish the image. Shit, he needed to get some air.

"I'm going home," he announced, throwing some bills on the table and for once glad that she had met him here and he wouldn't have to drive her back to her car or apartment. "I'll see you tomorrow." And he fled, hoping by the time he saw her tomorrow he wouldn't want to throttle her for being so goddamn clueless.

The next day Brennan called her partner for lunch and when he told her he couldn't make it, she knew he was still upset. She frowned at the phone in her hand, wondering whether she should just go to his office and confront him. But she wasn't sure about what, because she couldn't quite figure out exactly what had made him so angry.

"Bren, I think I have an idea …" Angela's voice trailed off. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Booth is mad at me," she admitted, her lower lip nearly trembling at the way he sounded on the phone, curt and distant.

"What?" By Brennan's distress Angela could see that it hadn't just been one of their bickering arguments, the type that were more like foreplay rather than fights. "What happened?"

"I'm not even sure!" Brennan told her friend before quickly recounting the entire conversation.

"Oh, sweetie," Angela sighed. "You told Booth you thought about having sex with other men at the diner?"

"Not exactly …" Brennan got up from her desk in agitation. "I wasn't even being truthful, Ange," she nearly wailed. "I … it was the first thing that came out … I didn't want to tell him that I was … you know … talking about …"

"Him?" Angela finished the sentence. "Well, you are going to have to tell him the truth now."

"What?" she gasped. "No."

"Bren," Angela's voice was full of patience. "You know why he got so upset?" Before Brennan could answer, she continued, "That place, Bren, that's you and him and years of everything you haven't been able to say to each other."

"It's just a place," she whispered stubbornly.

"You know that's not true," Angela rebuked gently. "It's your place, yours and Booth, and everything you feel for each other; god, Bren, you might as well have told him you wanted to have sex with another man in his bed."

"That's ridiculous," she protested.

"Look, all I'm saying is, you probably hurt him and he's probably wondering right about now if all those feelings he has are all one-sided." Although she already knew the answer, Angela asked, "Are they?"

"No."

"Then just tell him, Bren," Angela's voice was nearly hypnotizing. "For the love of god, it's time. Stop hiding and just _feel_."

"I … what if you are wrong," she asked in a tiny voice. "What if he doesn't really feel the same?"

"Sweetie," Angela's heart nearly broke at her friend's naked insecurity. "That man has risked his life for you, killed for you, flown across the country because you asked him to, put his career on the line for you and he's done it all more than once, do you think there's any chance he's not desperately in love with you?"

"Love is a chemical process that …"

"Maybe it is, Bren," Angela interrupted. "But however you want to define it, he feels it for you and all he needs is a sign that you feel it too."

"I …"

"Bren, you know you feel it too," Angela whispered softly before walking out of the office. "You just need to tell him. Just think about it."

She didn't see him all day and it just felt wrong. After leaving work, she went to the diner and sat in their usual table thinking of brainy smurf and breaking the laws of physics, and the way she felt every time he sat at this table across from her, smiling the most incredible smile she'd ever seen.

_Damn it, Booth, you drive me crazy_.

The next day he called her to ask if she wanted to meet him for lunch and when she told him she'd meet him at the diner, he softly said he wanted to go somewhere else. _Shit._

"Booth … I can't have lunch anyway, but we are having dinner," she told him, gripping the phone tightly as her mind started to race. "Do not make dinner plans," she told him forcefully. "I'll call you later."

After hanging up Brennan went to Angela's office. "I need your help." With every word she spoke Angela's eyes got brighter and brighter.

"How are you going to do that?" Angela asked, nearly bouncing off her chair.

"I'm going to write a check," Brennan explained rationally.

At 7 o'clock she called her partner and told him categorically to meet her at the diner in an hour.

"Bones …" his voice told her that he was about to put up one hell of a fight.

"No, Booth," she warned. "Please, please do not argue with me, just say you'll meet me there, please."

"Fine," he gave in on a sigh. "One hour."

And one hour later he was thinking ruefully that he was so whipped, because just yesterday he had sworn he wasn't coming back here. Getting out of his car, Booth nearly groaned at the closed sign on the door and flipped out his phone.

"Bones," he growled. "The damn place is closed."

"Not for us, Booth," she said. "Just come in."

_What? _He opened the door not sure what to expect but the sight that greeted him left Booth speechless.

"Lock the door behind you," she said softly and he did so in a daze. Turning back to his partner he wondered if he was hallucinating again and if so, he just didn't care.

The diner was full of flickering candles and she was standing in the middle of it in a long red dress with thin, lacy straps. On their table was a piece of his favorite pie.

When she walked toward him, Booth was certain his knees were going to give out.

"I wasn't being truthful," she confessed. "I'm sorry I lied because I was too afraid to tell you the truth."

He was nearly frozen as she let it all out. "I … you are the only one I think about when I think about sex in the diner or anywhere else for that matter." Brennan took a deep breath. "I don't want to pretend I don't want you anymore." His silence was unnerving her, but she couldn't stop now. "I don't know how to … but I … whatever you … I feel it too, whatever this is, I feel it too."

He looked like he'd been hit by a truck and for a second she panicked, wondering if she had read him all wrong. Brennan turned away from him, hugging her arms across her stomach and trying not to give in to the panic when suddenly she felt his arms surrounding her.

"Temperance," he choked out, burying his face in a cloud of soft hair. His heart felt like it could literally beat out of his chest and he was almost shaking.

She relaxed into him, exhaling in giddiness and relief. With one hand Booth swept her hair to the side and placed adoring kisses on the curve of her neck and shoulder. Her body broke out in goosebumps and she turned to look at him.

"Oh, Bones," he whispered, hands tangling gently in her silky hair. "I'm almost afraid I'm going to wake up."

"I'm sorry," Brennan said again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The diner is our place."

"I overreacted, I know," he admitted. "But I couldn't help it, I've wanted you for so long and I just …"

"Sshh," she pressed her lips softly to his and walked him backwards until he hit one of the diner chairs. "I've wanted you for so long too." She pressed a hand to his chest until he sat down and then she straddled him sensually.

"Here." Her lips moved feverishly over his face, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips. "I want you everywhere, but first I want you here."

"Soft and slow," he requested, dragging his hands under her dress and pulling down her silky scrap of lace. Brennan got up quickly to step out of it, before returning to her place on his lap.

"Yes," she gasped as he traced random patterns on the inside of her thighs. His fingers touched the outside of her folds lightly but without penetration.

"Oh, God," he moaned, pressing his face against her chest. "You feel like pure silk."

"Booth," Brennan rasped as she undid his pants and he spilled into her waiting hands. "I need you."

"Come here," he asked, voice husky and his body so tightly wound, Booth was almost afraid of what would happen once he let go. Spanning her waist, he placed her over his erection and looked up at her. "Kiss me, Bones."

She sank slowly into him, lips getting closer and closer together until he was buried deep and her mouth devoured his. Twin moans of satisfaction escaped into each other's mouths.

Under her dress, Booth's arms wrapped tight around her waist and Brennan's arms did the same around his neck.

"Bones," he gasped rapturously, lips skimming down her throat as her head fell back, body moving fluidly over him. "Jesus … this feels … _god …so perfect_."

Brennan buried her face in his neck as his hands caressed her back and then went to her hips, helping her set a faster pace. Her broken moans vibrated against his neck and his helpless gasps danced along her skin as they surged toward something they'd been dreaming about for so long.

Booth thought he heard her sob his name, he knew he shouted hers, both of them drowning together in wave after shuddering wave.

"My god, I don't …" He tightened his arms around her lightly shaking body, trying to put a coherent sentence together. "That was … I … _Christ_." He settled on the one word, giving up any attempts at putting into words what had just happened.

She was quiet for so long he began to worry. "Bones?"

Raising her head from his shoulder, Brennan cupped his face in both hands and looked into his brown eyes. "Yes, Booth?"

Keeping one arm around her waist, he brought a hand up and traced the outline of her face with his fingertips. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," she smiled joyfully, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "We are sitting in the diner together, how could it not be?"

Booth turned his head slightly and kissed the palm of her hand. His eyes closed blissfully as she placed a soft, tender kiss on his lips. _How could it not be?_

_It was more than okay, _Brennan recognized_, We're together in this and it's_ _incredible_.


	5. Erotic

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

I know this has been a long time coming, but it's long and smutty! Word courtesy of _**sweet psychologist**_ and _**Nyre the Black Rose**_. Other awesome choices included Engagement, Ego, Enigma, and Empty.

**P.S. **This is pretty smutty and if you are not comfortable with your smut taking place outside the bedroom, you should def skip this. But if you read, then you should def let me know what you thought! :) Enjoy!

**EROTIC  


* * *

**

"Hey, Bones, you ready for … whoa!" Booth's question screeched to a halt as he took in the magazines and DVDs spread on his partner's desk. "What the heck is all that?"

"Research," she answered, making a notation on the paper in front of her.

"Research?" His voice rose in disbelief. "Bones, this is _porn!_" Brennan raised her eyes from the paper and smirked at the way he hissed the last word in a prissy, scandalized voice that inevitably made her want to do or say something rather dirty.

"Actually, that is porn," she clarified pointing to a neatly stacked pile on one side of the desk. "But this is erotica." Brennan motioned to a different stack as she rose from the desk and gathered her purse.

"Erotica is a fancy word for porn, Bones," he noted, flushing red and averting his gaze from her cluttered desk.

"That's incorrect, Booth," Brennan objected as he led her out of the office. "Sexuality is often expressed through both mediums, but …"

"Bones …" he pleaded before she gave him a lesson on the history of sex. "We are about to have lunch … just, what's the research for?" She didn't miss his grimace on the word _research_.

"Remember how I had lunch with one of my old professors last week?" At his nod, she explained, "She told me the most fascinating anecdote about one of her graduate students. Turns out that at the end of an ethnographic interview, the subject responded sexually and …" Brennan could see he was opening his mouth to interrupt her so she decided this might be one of those times where succinctness might be appreciated. "Anyway, the story led us to a discussion on how we can analyze the sexual experience through anthropology, I'm writing a paper on it."

"Isn't that kinda not really your field?" he asked, slightly confused.

"It's not, but I'm an anthropologist, Booth; the holistic, comparative study of human beings is what fascinates me," she reminded him. "And sexuality is one of the most basic spheres of human interaction."

Brennan smiled at his bemused expression and leaned in impulsively to kiss him on the cheek. "Besides, it's a challenge since like you said, it's not really my field. Aren't you the one always telling me to keep an open mind?"

"Yeah, to pie and, you know, movies," he chuckled, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You are amazing."

After lunch, Booth dropped Brennan off and couldn't help himself from walking her to her office.

"That lunch was way too short," he complained, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"Yes," she answered, walking around to settle herself at her desk once again. "It might be a little late, though, I'm not sure when the movie will end."

"Movie?" Booth had been walking out of her office, but her words stopped him in his tracks and made him turn around.

"Mm-mm," she answered distractedly, rifling through some papers. "One of the showings is supposed to be erotica, I think once a week." She didn't see his eyes widen as she mused, "Maybe, I'll be able to talk to some of the patrons after, I'm sure there are regulars that …"

"Bones," he choked out. "Are you … are you telling me that you are going to … to …"

"An adult movie theater, Booth," she finished. "Most commonly such theaters show pornographic films that attract …"

"I know what the hell it is, Bones!" His face was flushed as he tried to make sense of her outrageous words. "Are you crazy?"

"It's just another part of a sexual culture," she explained reasonably. "Actually, patronage of such establishments is really a sub-culture now, since technological advances have made it so much simpler to engage …" Her voice trailed off at the color staining his cheeks and horrified expression. "It's research, Booth, what's the big deal?"

"So what, you are going to go sit in some theater, watch porn, and record your observations into your little tape recorder?"

"Actually," she said, completely missing the sarcasm, "yesterday I took a notepad and hand-wrote my observations, it seemed that speaking into …"

"Oh my god!" _Did she just say …_ "Yesterday?" Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his thumb and index fingers hard over his eyes. "That's what you did after you got out of work yesterday? You told me you were researching!"

"I was," she frowned. "Should I have specified?"

"Jesus Christ," he exhaled, trying to calm himself down. She was unbelievable, just when he thought he had somewhat of a handle on her, she proved that she could keep him guessing for the rest of their lives. "I can't believe that you … wait a sec …" His eyes narrowed as last night flashed into his mind. "When you … last night, you came over after the … oh god, that's what that was all about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you jumped me the minute I opened the door," Booth hissed. "Was it because of the movie?"

"Well, the movie was fairly erotic, yes," she said, cautious now because he looked like he was about to strangle her. "But I wouldn't say …"

"Right. Erotic," he spit the word out disdainfully. "Answer me this, the way we did it last night, was that because of watching that movie?"

"Booth, look …"

"Forget it," he interrupted. "You don't need to answer because I already know. _Fuck_, last night had nothing to do with us, did it?"

"That's ridiculous," she argued, standing up quickly. "Of course it was about us …"

"No, it was about _whatever_ that movie did for you that left you horny as hell," he accused. "Your little _erotic research_ made you hot for it and I took care of it but your vibrator could have done the same damn thing."

"I don't think my vibrator could have fucked me from behind all night long, Booth," she laughed at how ludicrous this whole argument was.

"I'm not amused," Booth gritted out.

"Well, neither am I," she said suddenly serious. "I don't know what you are accusing me of, but whatever it is, it's ridiculous."

"Really?"

"Yes," she mimicked his snappy tone. "Look, yes, I was aroused last night, and yes, it reminded me I like to have sex in that position, but goddamn it, Booth, it's you I wanted, ok?"

His stony expression made her sigh in frustration. "Come on, you know I wanted _you_, did you think I screamed your name out just for the hell of it?"

His eyes darkened and his shoulders jerked oh so slightly, but she saw it and she knew he was remembering too the way she screamed last night the minute his hands grasped her hips and he plunged into her.

In one quick move Booth snaked one arm around her waist and tangled his free hand in her hair.

"What would you have done last night if I had said no?" He whispered the question so close to her mouth, she felt his breath ghost across her lips.

"Why would you say no?"

_Good question_. He was fucking hot for her all the damn time and they both knew it.

"I don't know… what if I hadn't been in the mood?"

"That seems highly unlikely considering that …"

"Whatever, Bones," he growled. "Just pretend, ok, you're all turned on and looking for sex, but you can't get it from me, now what?"

"What are you trying to figure out?"

"I'm trying to figure out last night, Bones," he answered on a growl. "Was it about needing _someone_ to fuck you because you were aroused by what you saw or was it about needing _me _to fuck you because no one else would do?"

"I see," she smiled, melting into him as it struck her just what his concern was. She wasn't sure how after the past few months he could think that anyone else but him would do, but they had been having a whole lot of sex without really talking about the emotions behind it. Brennan knew it was more than sex because it could never be just sex with Booth, but maybe she needed to make it clear.

"Okay, let me be as clear as possible," she braced her palms on his chest, looking into his burning brown eyes. "No. One. Else. Will. Do." When he opened his mouth, Brennan placed a finger against his lips. "Last night, if you had said no, maybe I could have used my vibrator to take care of it, but it certainly would not have been what I needed or wanted. Not even close. And by the way, when I'm aroused I don't want _someone_ to fuck me, I want _you_, all right."

He sucked her finger into his mouth and her head fell back on a moan. "Damn it, Booth, I'm fucking addicted to you." Popping her finger out, Brennan wound her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his throat. The arm he had around her waist moved down to cup her ass and press her into him and the hand in her hair tightened.

"The way you taste and the way you smell; the way you hold me, the way you make love to me _and _the way you fuck me, I'm addicted to all of it. Just you, Booth." Rubbing herself against him, she asked, "Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes." His answer was hoarse as he closed his eyes and tried to remember they were in her very public office. Forcing himself to let go, Booth took a step back and scrubbed both hands across his face. When he looked at her again, she was sitting back at her desk, looking through her pile of porn.

"Be careful tonight, all right?" God, he didn't even want to think about the kinds of trouble she could run into, and he so wanted to say _no fucking way, Bones_. But he knew he had no right and she would kick his ass if he went all dictatorial on her anyway.

"I'm always careful," she pointed out. "Oh, and when I come over tonight, should I bring my vibrator, in case you are not in the mood?"

He looked at her, trying to figure out whether she was actually serious or making a joke. Damn it, he couldn't be sure.

"Don't you dare," he said tersely, before walking out of her office.

For the rest of the day Booth tried to forget about the fact that she was going to go watch some dirty movie tonight and he was so swamped with work, he was fairly successful at it. And then right before he clocked out for the day, he checked his email and knew there would be no more forgetting. The subject line was an address and the body of the email was short and succinct.

_If you finish at a reasonable hour, I would like it if you kept me company_.

She sure knew how to press every button, even ones he didn't even know he had.

Going home he showered and changed into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket that concealed his weapon. When he bought his ticket to the erotic movie of the week, he could not freaking believe he was doing this; he was a damn FBI agent.

Walking in Booth was surprised by how empty the room was; in the dim lighting he spotted two men and one couple scattered around the theater. Knowing Bones, he knew she would want to be as removed from her surroundings as possible; he had heard it countless times: _Anthropologists are supposed to observe while making sure to keep their impact to a bare minimum_. Well, that was going to be freaking easy to do in the back of a darkened movie theater. Looking at the very last row, he saw her shadowy figure in the corner and as he got closer he detected the small pad on which she was taking notes.

Sitting next to her, he didn't say a word and tried not to look at the movie, but shit, there was really nothing to do other than watch the giant screen. The movie really wasn't as explicit as he feared, though it was plenty sexual.

Unable to just sit there without saying anything, he finally whispered, "It's really empty, I would have thought there'd be more … _patrons_."

"I suspect it's because this movie is more erotica rather than pornographic and so may not appeal to as many people or the regular clientele."

"Yeah," he agreed, keeping his voice as low as possible. "It's just skirting the edge of porn."

"This doesn't help me," she sighed softly. "There were not enough people here, either yesterday or today, to make any valid observations or even form a valid conclusion. I may need to re-think this."

"Yeah?" He tried to keep the relief from his voice but her smirk told Booth he wasn't very successful.

"I'm going to look into other avenues of research, maybe shift the focus of my article some," she concluded, slipping her notepad into the purse at her feet.

Booth breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her putting her writing instruments away. "Ready to go home?"

"Not quite," she whispered wickedly, grabbing his hand and placing it above her knee, right at the edge of her feminine trench coat.

"Bones," he whispered, thankful that it was just a little too dark for her to see his flushed face. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you that despite your disdain, _this_ can be erotic," she answered, dragging his hand up the inside of her thigh.

"What the hell are you wearing under that?" he choked out, realizing she had moved his hand quite high and he was still feeling nothing but skin.

"A very short skirt," she breathed, tugging at her belt and letting the coat fall open. Even in the darkness he could discern a white, gauzy top and once his hand finally touched the skirt Booth realized just how short it was, because he was sure that one more centimeter up and he would be touching _her_.

"God," Booth whispered, helplessly moving his hand up and hitting her slick folds. "You knew I would come," he accused huskily once he registered her lack of underwear.

"I knew," she admitted. "Because I'm not the only one addicted to this, am I?" The question was rhetorical as she reached over and placed her hand over the bulge straining his jeans.

"Shit," he jerked as she cupped him, his fingers moving slickly inside her. "It's only erotic because you are here, Bones."

"And yesterday, I wanted you to be here with me," she confessed, moving quickly from her chair to his lap. Dragging her coat and skirt up, she ground her bare ass against his denim-covered erection.

"Baby," he breathed desperately against the back of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist and pressing her back against his chest. "This is crazy."

"Touch me," she pleaded, the rough feel of his jeans on her naked skin making her a little crazy.

Giving in, he slipped one hand under her blouse and the other between her legs. Oh damn, no panties and no bra. He pinched her nipple softly before rolling it a little roughly just how she liked it. Between her thighs, he stroked lazy circles on her clit, before dipping his fingers lower and playing with her wetness.

"Booth," she whimpered, fingers digging into the armrests of the chair and grinding him desperately.

"I know," he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her nape, squeezing her breast hard and rubbing her clit even harder. She covered her mouth with one hand as she came, trying not to make any noise.

She leaned back against his chest spent and it took her a couple of seconds to realize he was breathing hard and still very much aroused. Experimentally, she moved on him and his hands immediately shot to her hips and gripped them.

Her head fell against his shoulder as he ground her back and forth against him.

"_Fuck_," his strained voice was right next to her ear. "I want you so bad; damn, baby, I can't wait to get inside you."

"Then do it," she challenged in a husky, needy voice.

"What?" he panted. "Here? No way, Bones."

"Yes here," she declared quickly. "You're so ready and you know you want it."

"No," he repeated but his voice was weak, all the blood long ago having left his brain. The movie was no big deal, but amidst the silence, the moaning noises coming out of the speakers were getting to him.

Almost as if she could read his mind, she whispered, "The noises are erotic, aren't they? They make you want to moan aloud too, right?"

"Stop talking," he begged, because nothing, absolutely nothing was more erotic than her.

"Right now, Booth," she ordered in a soft, soft voice. "Fuck me right now."

"Stop," he whimpered, even as his hands pressed her frantically against him.

"Come on," Brennan said sweetly. "I've never done this before, I want to do it with you."

"Bones …" At the name, she knew he was about to cave, she was certain he'd never had sex like this either and it made her so excited to think that he would do this with her.

"Get inside me," she moved forward a little so he could unsnap his jeans. "I'm so wet, Booth, wet and hot just how you like it."

On a low groan, he freed his painful erection and grabbing her waist, slammed her down into him. She felt like home every single time.

"You feel so good," he whispered in her ear as she rode him with increasing speed. "Oh, babe, you are fucking tight." His hands trailed up her body and fondled her breasts the way he knew drove her crazy; palming their weight firmly in his hands as his thumbs dragged over and over across her tight nipples.

The tight, hot way she gloved him was fucking perfect and he could feel the mind-boggling orgasm boiling to the surface. "Oh _fuck yes_, Bones …"

"Booth," she gasped. "Don't let me scream." Her words registered and he realized she was on the edge too. Quickly covering her mouth with one hand, he plunged the other one between her legs and swiped two fingers hard across her wet center. Her scream was muffled against his hand and his own against her shoulder as they climaxed together in shuddering waves.

"Are you okay?"

At her whispered question, Booth smiled and hugged her against him. "I think that should be my line, Bones."

"I'm very okay," she answered. "But I want to go home, I'm sleepy."

"All right," he murmured, re-tying her coat and zipping his pants. "My home or yours?"

"Doesn't matter," she said. "As long as I get to sleep with you."

"You definitely get to sleep with me, no question about it, Bones." He dropped a kiss on her head and draped an arm around her as she picked up her purse and snuggled into him. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

_**You give me an F suggestion and I'll give you a smutty fight! It's downright symbiotic :)**_


	6. Fling

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

Another long, smutty one, just because I can't seem to write a smutty fight in less that 2000 words! Though this was a bit of a one-sided fight, heh-heh, hope you still enjoy! Word courtesy of _**meezergal**_. There were sooo many awesome words for F though: frisk, fantasy, fire, fiancee, fear, flirting, it was hard to pick but this is what came out!

**FLING  


* * *

**

"Oh, holy fuck … _yes_ …" he panted ecstatically and then tried to come to his senses. "No … _god_ … _wait_ ... we can't do this." The words seemed laughable in light of his lips sucking her nipples madly and his erection grinding her against the door.

"Yes, we can," she answered, quickly unzipping his pants and stroking his length appreciatively. "We are."

"We … ahhh … we … are … drunk," Booth complained, but his body seemed to be disconnected from his brain because his hands unsnapped her jeans, lowering them along with her underwear, without his permission.

"Don't care," she said stubbornly, refusing to let any rational thought invade her deliciously lust-addled mind. "Inside me. Now."

Booth spread her legs and touched her, moaning deep in his throat at how wet and ready she was for him. Brennan felt him grow even harder in her hand and knew she had him. "Hard."

Her throaty order nearly made him come and he wrapped one arm around her waist as he plunged deep inside her. She moaned loudly as he filled her up to the brim, fucking her hard and deep.

"YES," she groaned, feeling wildly out of control. "Booth, god yes … _oh yes_, fuck me, fuck me hard."

"Bones, _oh_ _Jesus _…" he moaned, pounding harder inside her. "You are scalding hot and so _fucking tight_."

Booth moved his arms under her thighs, bracing her against his front door as he moved faster and deeper than he ever thought possible. Brennan was completely uninhibited under him, digging her nails into his shoulder blades and urging him to go _faster, harder, deeper_.

Her climax hit her viciously as he came inside her, hot and hard and unrestrained, screaming her name in violent satisfaction.

The next morning he woke up to find her already dressed, standing next to the bed and extending a cup of coffee in his direction. He took it gratefully but with no idea what to say.

_I'm sorry_. Except he wasn't.

_Won't happen again_. Except it damn well would.

_Don't run_. Except she already was.

"I have to be at the lab soon," she said without quite meeting his eyes. "I'll see you later."

But two days later the only contact he had with her was the voicemail on his machine. Great, the one call she had actually returned in the last forty-eight hours and he had missed it. When Booth heard her calm and collected voice, letting him know that she would pass by his apartment with take-out after she left the lab that night, he actually wondered whether she was going to act as if everything was just business as usual and conveniently forget that she had woken up in his bed two nights ago.

_Oh, no fucking way, Bones_.

She showed up with food as promised and he waited her out.

"Been busy the past few days, Bones?"

"Quite," she answered, putting away the left-over food in his fridge. "One of the new interns completely ruined a reconstruction and I had to start over from scratch."

"Ouch," Booth winced sympathetically. "Did you make him cry?"

"No," she said with a tight smile. "But he won't be coming back. It wasn't his first mistake and I can't give him anymore chances."

"So you have been busy, rather than just hiding?" he mused out loud.

"Hiding from what?" Brennan asked innocently.

"I don't know, Bones," he said sarcastically. "Maybe the mind-scrambling sex we had against my door a few nights ago."

Without saying anything, Brennan stepped out of her shoes and raised her shirt over her head; her bra was quick to hit the floor after that, followed by her skirt.

"Does it look like I'm hiding?" she threw over her shoulder, heading in the direction of his bedroom in nothing but tiny boy-cut panties.

It took Booth a few seconds to process her actions and follow her into the bedroom, wondering whether he was suffering some kind of hallucination. But there she was, in the middle of his bed, sliding her underwear down her sinfully long legs.

"Come here," she whispered and he moved to the side of the bed in a daze. Rising to her knees, Brennan removed his shirt and peppered kisses on his chest.

"We are not drunk tonight," Booth reminded her, getting rid of his track pants and moving over her on the bed.

"I know," she acknowledged, turning on her stomach and looking at him seductively over her shoulder. Booth pressed kisses to her back, his hands caressing her ass gently. When she moaned and tilted into his hands, he pulled her onto her knees and knelt behind her on the bed.

"You want it like this?" he whispered in a soft voice.

"Oh yeah," she breathed excitedly and he groaned in masculine satisfaction as he stroked one finger through her to test her readiness and found her already wet. Instantly, Booth backed inside her from behind, breathing her name out in a husky whisper. He stroked in and out of her, softly at first but with increasing speed as their combined moans escalated in volume.

"Booth!" Brennan gasped his name as the orgasm hit her but he kept pumping hard and fast, working her towards another.

"I want you to come for me again," he moaned, pistoning over and over into her tight sheath. "Bones, come for me, baby." As she climaxed again, he came with her, his release seemingly endless as he pumped himself dry inside her.

"Christ," he whispered hoarsely, collapsing on the bed and spooning around her. "Bones?"

"Mmm?" she mumbled.

"We haven't used protection," Booth reminded her softly.

"S'okay," she said sleepily. "I'm on the pill. I trust you."

"I trust you too, baby," he answered, letting himself drift off as well.

It was almost two weeks later, after waking up to her rushing out of his apartment yet again, that he realized unpleasantly that they seemed to be engaging in an affair rather than a relationship.

His eyes narrowed as she hurried out of his apartment saying a quick goodbye and an even quicker "I'll talk to you later." Booth thought back to the last week and a half and realized that she was coming over, getting naked, blowing his mind and then rushing out in the morning.

_Was she satisfying biological urges with him? _As the question popped into his mind, Booth gasped in outrage.

Falling into bed with her had felt so natural, so fucking right that he hadn't even questioned the fact that falling into bed had been pretty much all they'd been doing, outside of work. All throughout the day he felt himself getting more and more hot under the collar the more he considered what had been happening since that drunken night.

_Why didn't she stay for breakfast? _

_Why did she only ever touch him when she came over at night? _

_Why did the more he thought about it, the more that it felt like Dr. Temperance Brennan was having a fling with him and he hadn't even realized it?_

Booth was nice and agitated that night when she came over, but the minute she threw herself into his arms and kissed him with sweet abandon, his brain seemed to stall. His arms automatically went around her and he kissed her back helplessly, the scent and touch and feel of her wrapping around his mind and making him a willing prisoner in her arms.

They left a trail of clothes from the living room to the bedroom, greedy hands and lips stroking each other madly.

"Booth," she whispered as he settled himself between her spread thighs. "Booth, oohh…"

His last name escaped her lips in that breathy moan that he'd learned meant she was already dripping wet. Placing soft, languid kisses along her collarbone, he dipped one finger between her legs and confirmed his suspicions. _Oh Yes._ So gratifyingly wet.

Brennan rocked into his finger and he inserted a second one, pumping slowly and letting her slick juices coat his fingers completely.

"Please …" she moaned and he replaced his fingers with himself, running his hands under her ass and sliding deep inside of her.

"So gorgeous," Booth moaned softly, feeling almost awed by the way she gave herself to him. She was absolutely stunning and wanton under him; arching her body, tightening her legs around him, and meeting his thrusts with complete abandon.

He wrapped her in his arms and dropped gentle kisses on her forehead as she fell asleep, but in the morning he was ready for her.

"Booth!" Brennan squeaked, feeling one heavy arm drape around her middle and keep her still as she tried to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Booth asked, eyes still closed and face buried against his pillow.

"Home," she said casually, it was a Saturday and she didn't have to go to the lab, but maybe she would go in and try to be productive with her day. Her heart sped up a little at the thought of spending the day with him, but she had no idea how to even go about proposing such a course of action.

"No," he said categorically, turning on his side and dragging her into him until her back was pressed snug against his chest. "We are having breakfast."

"Breakfast?" she inquired, rubbing her ass against his morning erection. "Is that some kind of euphemism for sex?"

"What?" Booth stopped the soft kisses he was placing on the side of her neck and frowned. "No, Bones! Breakfast just means breakfast … you know, me and you sitting across the table with some eggs, some fruit for you, some bacon for me, maybe orange juice."

"Oh," she whispered, panicking a little at the picture. For nearly two weeks she had been trying so hard to avoid any morning-after awkwardness, terrified that in the hard light of day he would start thinking of lines and the dangers of the job and all the things that could make him conclude that this was not a good idea.

"You don't want to have sex?" she asked huskily; over the past few weeks she had learned that sex was a wonderful way to make him forget everything. He was all feeling and passion in her arms and ironically she'd been using that knowledge to keep him from thinking too rationally about this.

"No," he repeated, even though it was obvious his body was not agreeing with his decision.

"I should go home," she said a little desperately and was startled when he cursed out loud and rolled on top of her.

"Goddamn it," Booth hissed, bracing his arms on either side of her body and looking at the infuriating, ridiculously beautiful woman under him. "I knew it, I knew you were going to piss me off like this."

"What?" She was utterly confused but she ran her hands down his back in an unconscious attempt to soothe.

"If you think I'm gonna let you have a fling with me, you are so damn wrong," he growled, nuzzling his face against her neck and licking at her.

"A fling?" she babbled, arching her neck to give him better access. "What? I'm not completely sure what …"

"We …" he interrupted, scattering little kisses along her jaw, "… are _not _engaging in an affair or a fling or any other ridiculously named description that indicates casual sex."

"Casual …?" Brennan's voice trailed off on a moan as he slipped inside her and rocked.

"We are in a _relationship_," he stressed. "Tell me what we are doing right now."

"What?" Her hips rose to meet his and her voice hitched as she tried to think past the sensations flowing through her.

"Right now, Bones," he demanded, keeping his strokes hard but measured. "_This_, tell me what we are doing."

"Having sex?" she ventured a little crazily, clasping her hands on his beautifully sculpted ass and surging into him.

"No," he denied, kissing her lips and pouring his heart out through that kiss. "We are making love, baby … god Bones, don't you see? We, _this,_ can never be casual."

"Booth … I … oh god," she tried to form an intelligent sentence that would point out that she never intended anything to be casual, but she couldn't think. Luckily, he made it easy for her.

"Tell me this is not casual," he demanded, resting his forehead on hers as their bodies moved in unison.

"No."

"Tell me this is not a fling," he pleaded, bringing his hands up and cupping her face gently.

"No."

"Tell me this is for keeps, Bones," he buried his face in the curve between her neck and shoulder and pulsed into her. "Tell me, baby."

"Yes," she whispered as she splintered too and even though Brennan wasn't completely clear on the meaning of the phrase, she still knew that was the answer he needed.

Booth rolled on his back, dragging her pliant body with him. His fingers combed through her hair as they both calmed their racing heartbeats.

"Are we having breakfast?" Brennan asked, the sweetest sense of relief unfurling through her.

"Yes." Booth wasn't sure how they had gotten their wires crossed, but relief was crashing through him in wave after wave. "Will you spend the day with me?" Last weekend he had taken Parker camping and hadn't seen her at all until Monday; so he hadn't had a chance to test this question out since they had begun this.

For so long, he had come up with any excuse he could think of to see her on weekends that the question seemed almost surreal. He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

"Yes."


	7. Gossip

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Word suggested by_** JenRar**_. Other great suggestions included: Gun, God, Gratification and Genius!

**GOSSIP  
**

* * *

He'd asked three questions and gotten three monosyllabic answers. Deciding he'd had enough, Booth got up from his desk and closed his office door. The act was more symbolic than anything else since it was nearly one in the morning and the Hoover building was deserted. But because he was about to confront her and drag whatever the hell was wrong out of her, the act of closing the door felt necessary. Plus, he had no intention of letting her walk out until she answered him, and Booth hoped the fact that he was standing in front of the only available exit and that such exit was closed would let her know he was getting an explanation, whether she liked it or not.

"I've let it slide for two days and now I'm done," he stated bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Booth nearly laughed at the ridiculous answer. Her eyes were stubbornly fixed on the paperwork in front of her, another one-word answer coming out of her lips and she actually wanted him to believe nothing was wrong.

"Let me remind you that you can't lie to me worth a damn," he replied, his patience starting to fray because she had been so distant the last two days it was starting to scare him. "Since yesterday morning you've barely said more than two words, you don't want to have lunch, you don't want to have dinner, and the only reason you are here right now is because your enviable work ethic won't let you go home knowing I'm still doing paperwork."

"It was our case," she reminded him stiffly. "You shouldn't have to do all the paperwork on your own."

"And that's the longest sentence I've heard from you in almost forty-eight hours," he said in frustration. "What the hell, Bones. Just tell me, are you mad at me?"

"No," she sighed, setting her pen down and finally looking at him. "Of course not."

Booth could tell that she was being absolutely truthful, but he was still confused as hell.

"Then what …?"

"It's nothing, Booth," she said once more, but her voice was no longer quite so stiff. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be so curt the last few days." Brennan wasn't surprised that he had confronted her and now that he had, she felt foolish for the way she'd been acting, but she hadn't been able to help the automatic defense mechanism that had kicked in.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, giving him a tentative smile. "Of course I'm not mad at you. Come on, let's finish this and go get some ice cream at that twenty-four hour place you love so much."

"Tell me what happened," Booth insisted, refusing to give in.

"Booth," she pleaded. "Can we just drop it, please?"

He merely looked at her and waited, steeling himself against her pleading tone and shining eyes. Usually all she had to do was ask and he caved; one look, one touch, one smile and he tended to give whatever she wanted, but he couldn't give her this. He had to know, because whatever happened had made her erect those walls around herself again, even if only for a few days.

"Nothing happened, all right," Brennan huffed in exasperation. "I just overreacted, it can happen to anyone."

"Overreacted to what exactly?" His voice told her that he was not going to drop this.

"To something I overheard," she said evasively.

"Gossip?" Booth guessed, her expressive face telling him he was on the right track. "Gossip can be nasty, Bones," he soothed, knowing that although she went through life as if nothing could hurt her, she could be so unexpectedly fragile too. "What was it?"

"It doesn't matter," she said resolutely and he sighed.

"Did you hear it at the Jeffersonian?" he asked, trying a different approach. He immediately knew the answer was no and wondered where else she could have heard … "Here?" Booth nearly gasped and though she remained silent, he could see the answer on her face: whatever she overheard had been at the Hoover. He shouldn't have been surprised, the FBI was certainly a hotbed of gossiping activity, but it pissed him off to no end that someone had been talking trash about _his _partner in _his_ building.

"Tell me, please," he asked again, racking his brain trying to figure out just what the hell kind of gossip had made her close herself off from _him_.

"No," she repeated firmly. "It was just gossip, Booth, it doesn't matter."

"It mattered enough that you've barely talked to me in two days," he shot back.

"And I've already apologized for that," she said stubbornly, but Booth could be stubborn too.

"You know what that tells me, Bones," he mused aloud in a conversational voice that she quickly recognized. "It tells me that whatever you overheard had something to do with me."

Brennan narrowed her eyes at his tone, it was the same one he used in interview on uncooperative suspects.

"No," she said quickly, but he ignored her denial the same way he ignored denials of guilt in his interrogation room.

"It's really the only thing that makes sense," Booth said in a deceptively casual tone. "But not just about me, about us, right, Bones," he deduced correctly. "That's why not only did you feel the need to shut me out, but why you don't want to tell me now."

"Booth …" she warned, standing up from her chair, hoping the action would let her feel more in control of the conversation.

"What was it, Bones?" he asked softly, taking one step in her direction. "Our partnership?"

"This is not your interrogation room, Booth," she reminded him, trying to keep the panic down. "And I'm not a suspect." Hoping that she could end the conversation by leaving, she tried to walk by him. And that was her first mistake.

"I don't think so," he whispered, reaching out and grabbing her arm firmly. "Tell me the truth."

"It had nothing to do with us," she lied and that was her second mistake. She saw the way his eyes narrowed and she recognized the speculative expression on his face; he had found her words incriminating in some way.

"So not about our partnership precisely, but rather about _us_ then," he said it as if it was a fact. "And it distressed you so much that every defensive mechanism you have went up," Booth continued, his voice no longer calm as he realized that the most likely gossip probably involved his feelings for her.

"Do people think we are sleeping together?" he tested first, but was almost sure that couldn't be it; countless people had implied it before and she had never freaked out.

"No," Brennan answered tersely. "Let me go," she said, but his hand only tightened on her arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to let her know he wasn't going to obey.

"You either tell me or I keep guessing," he informed her dangerously. "And I've got all night."

He saw her wheels turning and warned, "Don't lie to me, Bones." His heart was beating fast as he wondered what had upset her so much. If the gossip going around the Hoover was that he was in love with her … Damn, he really hoped that wasn't it, because that meant she had been less than pleased with the information. "I'll know if you lie and it'll just piss me off."

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked desperately. "Why can't you just, for once, let something go?"

"Why are you so dead set against telling me?" Booth countered.

"Because it's embarrassing, okay," Brennan said loudly, finally losing all composure. "The speculation wasn't about us sleeping together, Booth," she said on a humorless laugh. "It was about why we_ aren't. _Why, despite my apparent physical desirability, you don't want me." The words escaped in a bitter rush and she was now helpless to stop them. "Apparently, it isn't surprising that we aren't sleeping together because you are aware that I am a frigid bitch and no man wants to go to bed with a robotic block of ice."

He could tell she was quoting directly and he was stunned at the words coming out of her mouth. Stunned and horrified.

"Are you satisfied now?" Brennan asked bitterly, taking advantage of his slackened grip and freeing her arm. She was nearly to the door when he came out of his trance and spun her around to face him.

_I have to tell her_, Booth realized._ I can't let her walk out of here thinking ... god, I'm a damn idiot. _

"Everyone knows I want you," he blurted out, gripping her shoulders to keep her in place. It was now her turn to listen in shock at the words spilling out of him.

"Well, apparently not everyone," Booth rectified, frowning darkly at the thought that there were people walking around the Hoover spouting the kind of garbage she had heard. "But everyone that knows us just a little bit; Pops, Cam, Angela, Hodgins, Sweets, Hacker, Charlie, Gordon-Gordon, Wendell, Clark, the British kid, Sid, Rebecca, Caroline, your dad, your brother," he listed everyone that came to mind, but he was sure there were plenty more people. "They all know, Bones, everyone knows that I want you so much that it's a miracle that the only person who doesn't know it's _you_."

She was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes and he swallowed. "Say something," Booth asked softly, utterly unnerved by the silence.

"You want me?" Brennan repeated faintly and he could see that she almost didn't believe the words. And he knew why she had retreated for the last two days. _Oh shit, idiot was not even the right word, it couldn't convey the full extent of his stupidity._

"Did you think any of what you heard was true?" he whispered, hands moving to her back and pressing her forward until there was almost no space between them.

"Not the mean things," she whispered, her voice distilling vulnerability. "I know you would never think or say anything like that, but … you know, the general idea … that ... that you don't want me …"

"I want you," he murmured against her lips, kissing her tentatively at first. But when she opened her lips for him, he slanted his mouth on hers with purpose and devoured her. _He would show her, there would be no freaking doubts anymore._

"I want you," Booth said again, hands drawing up her shirt without resistance and discarding it on the floor. "Every damn second of the day, I want you." He flicked the clasp of her bra next and fell on her naked breasts.

Brennan fisted her hands in his hair and arched into his lips; the cool glass of the door against her back the most exquisite contrast to the hot heat of his mouth sucking madly on her nipples.

"I'm not cold," she whispered in a barely audible voice, but he heard and he understood her in a way no one else had before or ever would again.

"Oh god, Bones, I know," Booth assured her, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up her chest until he was looking straight into her eyes. "I've always known." His hands settled at her waist, on the bare skin above her jeans and he lifted her; automatically her legs wrapped around him as he carried her to the desk. "Jesus, baby, you burn me up." His lips fused with hers again, and he reached out blindly, sweeping the edge of the desk clean and scattering the contents on the floor.

"Booth," she gasped as he set her on the smooth surface. "The paperwork …"

"Fuck it," he growled, unsnapping her dark jeans and mapping every inch of her mouth with his tongue.

Brennan threw her head back to gasp in some air and she braced her hands on the desk to leverage her hips up and allow him to peel off the rest of her clothes; which he did, quickly and efficiently. Everything came off: pants, shoes, and underwear and she was left naked on his desk.

"Booth …" she panted, yanking off his tie and snapping buttons madly; spreading the shirt wide open, her palms glided eagerly over his smooth chest.

Stepping out of his shoes, Booth got rid of his pants, but before he could get to his boxers, his head fell back on a groan as cool lips explored the skin her hands mapped out.

"Bones," he said, his voice part moan, part order. "Feel me." He didn't need to clarify.

Locking her eyes with his, she trailed her hands down and tugging the elastic aside, she wrapped gentle fingers around velvet steel.

His body shuddered the second she touched him and he gripped her hips to anchor himself. "_Ohh, yeeess_," he hissed, making sure to keep his eyes on hers. "Do you feel that, Bones?"

She nodded wordlessly, pushing his underwear down swiftly before stroking his length from base to tip.

"It's for you," Booth choked out, aligning himself between her open thighs and sliding her forward a little more on the desk. "It's all for you."

He slid just the tip of his erection inside her heated core and Brennan nearly whimpered, her fingers tightening on him. _So much hardness right at her fingertips_. "Booth …"

"I want to make myself clear, Bones," he husked out. "Fucking crystal clear." Her head dropped back and he licked slowly up the line of her throat.

"I … Want … You." Booth enunciated each word forcefully, burying himself inside her in one hard stroke.

Her hands gripped his shoulders and her legs locked around his hips, her lips opening on a soundless gasp. He kept one hand on her hip and brought the other one up to cup the back of her neck.

"Do you understand?" he demanded hoarsely, pumping hard and fast, over and over. "Everything. You, this, us. I want _everything."_

"Yes," she gasped out, circling her arms around him tightly and burying her face in the curve of his shoulder. Her body trembled under the rush of satisfaction and when her lips pressed against the pulse point on his neck, Booth felt the tip of her tongue reach out and taste his skin.

"Yes to what?" His voice mirrored exactly how he felt; like he was being consumed by the most delicious flames and when she answered on a breathless sigh, he simply combusted. "Yes to what, Bones?"

"To everything."


	8. Hickey

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and I loved all the awesome suggestions. Today's word comes courtesy of **_hot4squints_**, _**ugo**_, and _**caliginous**_. Other great choices included _husband, handcuffs, hallucination, hurricane, and honeymoon._

**HICKEY**

**

* * *

**

With all the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile, Angela's eyes drilled into her.

"Brennan, you have so been holding out on me!"

The excited utterance made Brennan freeze, as well as Booth who had walked into the room with Angela. Like a lion pounces on a gazelle, Angela's quick fingers tugged on the neckline of Brennan's shirt and uncovered the damning evidence.

"Oh my god, look at this thing," she breathed in excitement at the incontrovertible proof that someone had their mouth all over her best friend. "Who's been leaving hickeys on you, Bren?"

"That's none of your business!" Brennan hissed so vehemently that Angela was momentarily taken aback. "This is a professional work environment, Angela," she chastised bitterly before rushing out of the office, leaving behind a bewildered Angela and a tense Booth.

"Well, that was a little bit of an over …" But Angela's voice faded off as she turned around to find Booth looking about as upset as Brennan had sounded. She winced as she realized that Brennan's freak out had probably something to do with the fact that her partner was in the room. For all her sexual independence, Angela was convinced that Brennan would not want Booth to know that she'd been doing the nasty with another man.

"Sorry," she whispered contritely, knowing it had to be giving Booth indigestion to know that someone had left a hickey on his partner.

"Get me a face on the vic, Angela," he said tersely before walking out of the office without another word.

"Oh, those two idiots," Angela grumbled to the empty office. "When are they going to wake up and put us all out of our misery?"

**--x--**

"Did you do it on purpose?" Brennan asked bluntly when she opened the door to him that night.

"What?" His eyes opened wide in outrage as he paced her living room. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"I know you are tired of keeping this a secret," she accused heatedly, conveniently forgetting the fact that the secrecy was getting to her as well.

"So what, you think I'm trying to force your hand?" he growled, anger rising up faster than a hot-air balloon at the blatant accusation. "Do I need to remind you that sex this morning before we left for work was your idea, Bones?"

Brennan knew he was right, she had attacked him in her kitchen as he made coffee, making them nearly late, which was why she had dressed in a rush and been out the door before she realized there was fairly glaring evidence of their activities on her neck.

Part of her knew she was being somewhat unreasonable, but she was still feeling the effects of the panic that had gripped her when Angela had pounced on her that morning. She had been completely unprepared and Brennan did not do well in those situations.

"Well, this juvenile brand on my neck was definitely not my idea," she lashed out, heedless of the storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Hey, I was not trying to brand you," Booth defended through gritted teeth. "I just got a little over-enthusiastic because you make me so fucking crazy."

She ignored the little electric feeling his admission sparked in the pit of her stomach and went on the attack. "I am not going to let your testosterone-fueled tendencies dictate when everyone else finds out about this."

"Oh my god, back to this," he snarled, feeling the last of his patience circling the drain. "It's a damn hickey, Bones, not some devious plan to let Angela know we are now doing a hell of a lot more than investigating cases together."

_She was unbelievable_, Booth thought in outrage. She had jumped_ him_ this morning, almost made him late for work, and now she was accusing him of trying to out their relationship. This whole conversation was starkly reminding him that they had been sneaking around for months now with no end in sight. And she was so upset at the thought that someone _might_ find out that it was lighting his fuse big time.

"And so the hell what if Angela knows?" he asked suddenly, advancing on her with dark, dark eyes. "So what if the whole damn lab knows, why the fuck are we still hiding?"

Brennan frowned, unable to answer the question since she wasn't quite sure herself. At first, they had agreed not to say anything while they figured things out, however, considering that they spent almost every night together, there really was nothing to figure out. But yet, they had continued to maintain their relationship a secret and they hadn't even realized how much the secrecy was starting to chafe.

"You know what, maybe I should leave hickeys over every inch of you," he considered darkly, snapping his arms around her and crushing her to him. "Let you explain that to the squint squad."

"You wouldn't dare," Brennan gasped, but she didn't bother to try and struggle out of his arms, her body was already melting into him.

"You know you scratch me all the time," he countered, setting his lips to the side of her neck that was unmarked and sucking hard, not enough to leave a mark, just enough to get her attention. "Why can't I mark you back, it's only fair."

"No one can see it when I scratch you," she retorted loftily. "Unless you've been getting naked at work and have failed to mention it."

"Why are we still hiding?" he repeated in all seriousness, the anger and irritation having left him to be replaced by trepidation. "Are you … are you ashamed of this?"

"Of course not!" she gasped, horrified that he could even be entertaining that thought. "God, no, Booth … why would you even think that?"

"I don't know, Bones. We said it would just be for a little while, but we are still, you know, keeping this a secret," he murmured, lips feathering over the hickey on her neck. "And you freaked out today when Angela saw this …"

"I know, I'm sorry," she sighed, curling her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. "She caught me by surprise … I don't do well with surprises."

"I'll say," he chuckled, her head on his shoulder soothing every insecurity. "How about we surprise her for a change?"

"Okay, tomorrow," she agreed, laughing as she pictured Angela's face when Booth kissed her right in the middle of her office. "When you come get me for lunch we can give Angela a little show."

"Really?" He picked her up and sat her on the kitchen counter and Brennan laughed again as she realized they were back at the scene of the crime and she was in the exact same position she'd been in that morning.

She nodded and grabbed the edge of his Flyers T-shirt, eagerly tugging up. "I overreacted about the hickey," she admitted, scattering apologetic kisses over his bare chest. "Just … let's at least try to keep any further evidence of broken blood vessels out of sight."

"Wow, now that's romantic," Booth mocked playfully, tugging off her blouse and running his tongue gently over the swell of her breasts. "I'm sorry I marked your beautiful skin."

"Booth, no, it's …" Brennan sighed as she confessed, "I like it when you lose control for me."

"Do ya?" he grinned foolishly, bunching up her flowy skirt and dragging down a pink pair of panties.

"Don't be smug," she moaned her admonishment, head falling back as his fingers caressed gently between her legs. "And stop teasing."

"But I like teasing," he whispered naughtily with a light nip to her ear. She was making those soft, kittenish sounds he loved so much and he teased her slick folds with his fingertips, rubbing her so very slowly. "Oh, I like it so much."

"Booth!" she growled in frustration, slim fingers unbuttoning his jeans impatiently and quickly yanking down the offending clothing that stood in her way. Hands clutching his toned ass, she pressed him into her spread legs and bit down on his shoulder.

On a heartfelt groan, he clasped her hips and slid inside her, capturing her lips and swallowing feminine gasps of pleasure as her legs locked around him. His lips skimmed hungrily over her skin as he pumped steadily inside her.

"I want you to lose control for me now," he murmured, running his lips over the soft flesh spilling over her matching pale pink bra. He scattered kisses up to her neck, running his tongue lovingly over the bruise before kissing it softly.

"I do," Brennan gasped, digging her fingers on his biceps as he suddenly picked up the pace. "I always do." She moaned her approval when his own fingers dug into her thighs, making sure she wouldn't slide on the marble surface. He was all raw power as he fucked her hard on her kitchen counter and it electrified her. Brennan's eyes were automatically drawn to the tendons stretched taut on his neck and she buried her face on the curve between neck and shoulder, sucking lightly on his skin. As the orgasm uncoiled inside her, she started sucking harder and Booth went slightly wild at the suction.

"Don't stop," he groaned, nearly dizzy as he came hard inside her, his body drained by her tight walls contracting exquisitely around him.

Loosening his grip on her thighs, Booth ran one hand slowly up her back until his fingers tunneled in her hair. Eyes closed, he cupped the back of her head and enjoyed the sensation of her lips brushing over his neck.

"Hope you didn't break any blood vessels," he teased, voice still husky.

"Shut up," she laughed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders now that they had agreed to stop hiding; she really had no idea what had taken them so long.

"Come on, my little vampire," he rumbled, picking her up from the counter and moving to the bedroom. After undressing her and himself, Booth laid her gently on the bed before rolling her under him. "My turn to sink my teeth into you."

"Booth …" she said warningly, even though she was feeling surprisingly smug about the slight mark she could already detect on the curve of his neck.

"Don't worry, baby, next mark I leave on you, not a chance in hell anyone else will see," he assured her, kissing his way slowly down her body.

"Oh yeah?" Brennan gasped, legs falling open to accommodate the width of his shoulders as he scraped his teeth playfully on her stomach.

"Hell yeah," he murmured, spreading her legs wide and placing a deep, sucking kiss on the inside of one silky thigh. "Strictly between us."


	9. Invitation

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

**Warning: do not read if you are completely spoiler free.** I don't like writing about future speculation that much, but I had this idea before reading those stupid spoilers and I refuse to change it. I'm really considering going spoiler-free for season 6! Who's with me? :)

Word courtesy of the lovely **Cheri Goodman**. Enjoy!

**INVITATION  


* * *

**

It had been a while since they sat at the diner together. He didn't even want to think about exactly how long, but by the look on her face Booth knew their absence from the diner was the least of his problems.

"What's this?" he asked, picking up the piece of paper she slid across the table to him.

Her silence unnerved him and he glanced down at the paper in his hand with an inevitable sense of doom. Whatever the hell this was, Booth was almost certain he wasn't going to like it.

He read the letter, the words jumping out at him, each one a sucker-punch. Ancient remains. Dig. Indonesia.

"You've been invited to participate in this dig?" Booth asked the question even though the answer was right there in his hands.

"Of course. I'm the best there is," she replied automatically, but there was no satisfaction in her tone, maybe because she was already starting to feel numb.

"And you're going." It wasn't a question this time and he laughed bitterly because it seemed she wasn't done tearing little pieces out of him. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're running. Guess I should be surprised you didn't do it five months ago."

His voice was low and slightly disdainful and she jerked in response.

"I am not running …"

"Oh, please," he interrupted brutally. "Lie to yourself if you want, but you can't fucking lie to me."

Brennan almost gasped at the hard language she so rarely heard from him. His hand fisted and he crushed the paper, tossing it onto the table and standing up abruptly.

"You go ahead and run, Bones," he hissed, pain and panic mixing wonderfully with fury. "Accept your goddamn invitation and go. But you better fucking remember that it's _you _leaving _me._"

He stormed out of the diner and started walking, leaving behind his partner and his car. He wanted to go get roaring drunk, maybe pick up a woman and pound out years of frustration inside some faceless stranger. Except he felt dirty just thinking about it and he refused to give her the satisfaction. She was _not_ going to drive him into the kind of self-hating behavior that …

"Booth!" He kept walking, without bothering to slow down. "Booth!"

He heard her feet pounding on the pavement and he whirled around to face her. The thought assaulted him suddenly that _she_ was the source of his frustration and _she_ should damn well be the one soothing it. Everything was rising up—his fears, his anger, his yearning— and he was done bottling it up.

"Don't say a word," he warned, grabbing her arm and whistling for the cab pulling up to the curve.

The last time he grabbed her like this, she had slapped him unceremoniously, but now the thought didn't even cross her mind as he hustled her into the cab. She was struck speechless as he gave the driver his address.

During the ten minute cab ride, he didn't say anything, his face remote and nearly expressionless. Getting out in front of his apartment, he wrapped his fingers right above her elbow and guided her through his front door.

Brennan watched him flick the deadbolt on the door, the sound strangely loud in the silence.

"Booth …" she began tentatively, but he walked in her direction and she took an involuntary step back.

"What did I say?" he growled, one arm going around her back, the other behind her knees as he lifted her in one swift movement and carried her to his bedroom. His mouth was on hers instantly, kissing her with every iota of anger, love, and passion coursing through him. Her hands tightened convulsively in his hair as she kissed him back, unable to do anything else.

Setting her on the bed, Booth straddled her, every button popping as he ripped open her blouse.

"You wanna run, Bones, fine," he said darkly, leaning down until his chest touched her laced-covered breasts. "But you're going to remember this every damn day you are gone." And he fell on her, lips running feverishly over her skin as his hands rid her of every stitch of clothing.

His hands cupped her naked breasts reverently and she moaned softly, arching into the touch. Her own hands, small and efficient, glided over him, discarding jacket, shirt, and pants. His skin burned wherever she touched him and once he was naked on top of her, Booth was certain every single inch of him was on fire.

He watched her eyes drift shut as his hands glided over the curves of her body and his throat closed at the unexpected sweetness of her response. The anger drained out of him as if sucked into a vacuum and his forehead rested against hers, thumbs stroking in small circles across her hipbone.

"Tell me to stop." His voice was raw, pleading for her to stop this because he didn't have the willpower.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, eyes opening, hands wrapping around him and guiding him to her as she parted her legs to accommodate him between smooth, white thighs.

His breath hitched, throat working desperately as the enormity of the situation hit him. She was leaving him and he was about to lose any chance he ever had of ridding himself of his addiction. If he touched her, if she was his for even one night, how could he ever be free of her?

"Bones …" he choked out, one thumb trailing a soft path from hipbone to the soft flesh between her legs. His finger glided smoothly up and down the edge of her soaked sex. The butterfly caress along her slick folds made her shudder as her hands released his rigid length and stroked over his body.

"Please," she pleaded, legs locking tight around him. "Don't stop. Please, Booth, don't … _please_."

"Temperance …" Her name was surrender and anguish as he slid inside in one clean stroke, twin moans of completion vibrating the room.

Head thrown back, she moved under him in abandon, starving for this part of him she'd denied herself for so long. Booth couldn't take his eyes off her, cataloguing every reaction, absorbing every sound, every gasp of pleasure on every slide in, every whimper on every stroke out. He pressed kisses to her chest, her shoulders, her neck, desperate to imprint every part of this forever on his soul. The desire was quite masochistic, considering the circumstances, but this, _this_ was perfection and he felt nearly frantic to remember every second of it because he might never experience it again.

Her gasps of pleasure washed over him, fingers digging into his back urging him to join her in the cresting avalanche of rapture crashing over her. His own fingers tangled in the waves of mahogany hair spread over the white pillow, lips capturing hers as he poured everything he had inside the woman that was everything.

Falling onto his back, Booth stared blindly at the ceiling, listening to her ragged breathing. Next to him, her body pumped heat like a furnace and he closed his eyes trying to stop himself from doing something crazy. But when he felt her shift on the bed, his eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at her.

Brennan turned on her side and the clean line of her spine broke him. His arm snaked out to curve around her tiny waist and he rolled her under him.

"Don't leave," he breathed, bracing his forearms on the bed at either side of her and looking down into sapphire blue eyes. "Say no to that damn invitation and stay."

"Booth …" She cupped one hand around his face, eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Bones, for the love of god, don't run," Booth pleaded, voice low and intense. "Don't tell me you don't feel this, don't tell me I'm not what you need." His lips crashed down, kissing her desperately. "Because I am. I damn well_ am_. You've been waiting for me all your life, just like I've been waiting for you."

"I … you said … you said you were moving on," she said in a tiny, uncertain voice. "I don't want to get in the way of …"

"Bones, does it look like I'm moving on?" he asked point-blank, hands tunneling in her hair and holding her head. "Does it look like I even can?"

"I nearly interrupted your last date," she confessed, remembering the irrational feelings that had left her staring at her phone ready to dial his number for endless hours. "That's when I knew the most efficient course of action would be to go away for a while."

His heart thudded at her confession, the first tiny trickles of elation creeping through him. "Without exception, every date I've had in the past few months has been nothing but a damn exercise in futility. Now ask me why."

"Why?" she whispered breathlessly, mesmerized by his glittering eyes.

"Because I compare every single woman to you and they all come up short," Booth answered. "Because maybe they can make me laugh or feel less lonely, but they can't make me burn with just one look, they can't make me feel alive just by walking into the room, they can't make me happy for the next fifty years."

Booth lowered his head, lips brushing whisper soft against her cheek. "Only one woman can," he breathed in her ear. "Care to take a guess as to who that woman is?"

"M-me?" Brennan exhaled in wonder, arms going around him almost unconsciously and stroking up and down his back.

"You," he confirmed softly, untangling one hand from her hair and brushing his fingertips along one cheekbone.

"You are staying." It wasn't a question or even a request, more like an affirmation of what he could read in her eyes. Relief crashed through him and Booth struggled to keep from drowning in it. "Say it."

"I'm staying."

_Yes. Heck yes.  


* * *

_

--

_**Thoughts? and/or J words?**__  
_


	10. Jasmine

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Thank-you all for all the awesome words, it always makes it so much easier when I have plenty of options! Word comes courtesy of_ **Dr. Madness**_.

**JASMINE  


* * *

**

"I had a nice time tonight."

"So did I," Booth replied politely. She looked at him expectantly and he bit the bullet. "Mm … do you want to come up?"

She smiled and nodded and he realized that he couldn't avoid this anymore. He wasn't cheating on anyone by having sex with this woman and it was time to stop acting like he was.

They walked through his front door and she turned to him, stepping close and brushing her lips across his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, determined to enjoy this. She was a good kisser and he ignored the little taunting voice that reminded him that good was a long way from magical.

They walked backwards until they hit his couch and she divested him of his jacket. He landed on the cushions and she was quick to straddle him, rocking slightly against him as her lips nipped playfully on his. The scent of jasmine enveloped him and he hesitated momentarily. Something was wrong, but he couldn't even explain it. Jasmine was certainly a pleasant smell, nothing wrong with it, but it didn't make him want to close his eyes and inhale.

She started unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, while the other brushed against the front of his slacks. He jerked in surprise and she rubbed a little harder, trying to get his body to respond.

"What's wrong," she whispered, pressing down against his half-hearted erection. "Are you not in the mood?"

God, he _should_ be in the mood. He hadn't had sex in so damn long and he had a beautiful, eager woman in his arms who made him laugh. _What the hell was wrong with him?_

"Nothing's wrong," he assured, slipping his hands under her blouse to prove it to them both. She arched into his touch and he rubbed his thumbs over the hardened nipples pressing against her bra, willing his body to get it together.

"Seeley," she breathed and he swallowed painfully at the use of his first name.

Shit, that had definitely sounded wrong. Any number of women had called him by his first name in bed, but for a long time now he had been dreaming about hearing his last name instead. One particularly husky voice whispering his last name, to be precise; moaning it over and over again in mind-numbing pleasure.

_Stop dreaming, buddy_, taunting voice helpfully pointed out. _Just prove what you set out to prove and get this over with. _

Grabbing her by the waist, he flipped her under him on the couch and settled between her legs. He breathed in that jasmine scent again as his lips landed on her neck, his hands sliding under the flirty skirt she'd worn on their date. She moaned slightly and he raised his head at the sound, looking down at her.

The eyes looking up at him were now aqua-green instead of blue and shiny brown tresses spilled over his couch instead of raven black hair. Booth went rock hard between her legs, even as he gasped in outrage.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed, jumping up from the couch as if he'd been burned.

"W-What's wrong?" Catherine asked, voice startled, automatically adjusting her skirt as she sat up on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," he apologized sincerely. "I'm really sorry, it's just … damn … I can't do this."

"You can't?" She looked at his erection in clear confusion. "It looks like you can. Was it … was it something I did?"

"What? No!" he reassured, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You're beautiful and smart and funny and damn near perfect." Almost ruefully, Booth added, "And you actually get my jokes."

She had been looking confused, but at his last sentence, her eyes widened in understanding. "Right. Dr. Brennan," she whispered softly.

"I'm a mess," he said, unsurprised by her words even though he had never talked about it. "And I have no business starting anything with anyone until I get my act together. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on, I really did hope …"

"Relax, Seeley," she sighed, rising up from the couch. "I'm a woman, I knew you were in love with her the moment I saw you two together."

"You did?" he asked, bemused. "Then why did you ask me out?"

"Because you're an attractive, smart, seemingly decent man," she answered pragmatically. "And I'm a woman and no matter how smart we are, we always think we can be the one."

"The one?"

"Yeah, you know," she chuckled ruefully. "The one that's going to change things, the one that's going to make him realize he really does want kids, or marriage, or in my case, the one that's going to make him forget he's in love with someone else."

Walking over to where she had dropped her purse, she shook her head self-deprecatingly. "You would think we'd know better by now."

"I'm sorry," he said again, miserably.

"Stop apologizing," she ordered, walking over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It's been a nice few months. You're a very nice man and I hope Dr. Brennan realizes what she has because I have a feeling you're really not going to be happy otherwise."

Booth watched her walk out the front door and flopped down on the couch, staring at nothing.

_Well, Seeley, you really are fucked and not in a good way. You just had to go ahead and fall head over fucking heels for your partner. You knew from the very beginning, from the goddamn first kiss, that she was absolutely dangerous to your heart and you still ran headlong …_

The knock on the door interrupted taunting voice's diatribe and Booth wondered how long he had been sitting there, listening to his ranting inner voice. He considered ignoring the door. He looked around to see if maybe Catherine had left something behind, but when he didn't see anything, he figured it probably wasn't her and whoever it was could just go away.

The insistent pounding went unabated and he rose from the couch in a huff, whoever was on the other side was going to get a piece of his mind. He wrenched open the door without bothering to check who it was and because God clearly had a sense of humor he found himself face to face with his partner.

"Hi, Booth," she greeted in that husky voice of hers. _Oh yeah, that's the right name, the right tone, the right smell_, taunting voice purred, pissing him off to no end.

"What is it, Bones?" he demanded a little more harshly than intended, but he stepped aside and she walked in.

"I'm sorry, is this not a good time?" she asked hesitantly, taking in his jacket, still lying on the floor and his still half opened shirt. "Are you .. are you not alone?"

"I'm alone," he said, closing the door and turning to her, arms folded across his chest. "What's going on?"

Instead of answering, she took a step forward, eyes narrowing as she breathed in. "You smell like jasmine," she accused, nose wrinkling in what could only be distaste.

"Is that a particularly offensive smell to you, Bones?" he asked casually, refusing to back down. He didn't owe her any explanation, Booth reminded himself, chin tilting up stubbornly.

"I don't like it," she admitted starkly, involuntarily taking a step forward. "I don't like to smell it on you."

He should be used to her bluntness by now, but somehow she still managed to catch him by surprise.

"It's really none of your business, though, is it, Bones?" The words were low and angry because how dare she play the jealousy card now after she had made it clear that she could care less.

"Did you have sex with her?" Brennan couldn't believe she was asking the question and from his inhaled breath, it seemed he couldn't believe it either.

"You're unbelievable," Booth breathed, unsure whether he wanted to kiss her or throttle her. "And that it's _really_ none of your business."

"You smell like jasmine, your shirt is undone, and your jacket is on the floor," she assessed as clinically as possible. "So I guess the question answers itself."

"You are the most infuriating woman," he growled, arms shooting out and gripping her shoulders. "You think you have all the answers, don't you?"

"Well, the evidence speaks for itself."

"Oh, that's right, the evidence," he mocked softly, their bodies so close together now, they were breathing each other's air. "So I guess my answer really doesn't matter, does it, because you already have all the evidence."

"I really hate this goddamn smell," she growled just as angry, hands fisting in his shirt. "You shouldn't smell like her."

"Who should I smell like, Bones?" he taunted and her answer was to plaster herself to him and kiss him savagely.

_Oh yeah, this is what it should feel like. More, more, more_. Inner voice had gone from taunting to purring and Booth wrenched himself away from her, furious at the way she made him weak just by breathing.

"No," he panted, taking one unsteady step back. "You _cannot_ do this to me, Bones." His voice was angry and turned on as he accused, "You're messing with me and I don't appreciate it. If you don't want me, you can't get pissed just because someone else does."

"What?" Brennan gasped, horrified that he actually thought this had anything to do with her not wanting him. "Of course I want you, Booth!" The words were wrenched from her throat in a near scream. "I've always wanted you … god, it's never been about that … it's me, you know it's me … I'm not good enough, I don't deserve you, I can't make you happy …"

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Booth gasped the words as he closed the distance between them again and this time he curved an arm around her waist, whirling her around and pressing her against the door. "Don't you know that you make me happy even when you're making me miserable? Don't you know that _I'm_ the one who doesn't deserve _you_, but I don't even care anymore because I need you so goddamn much."

"No, that's not true …" she whispered, eyes closing.

"You think you need all the evidence, you think the evidence will always give you the right answer, but sometimes the evidence doesn't give you the true story." His hand fisted in her hair and he challenged, "Ask me again if I slept with Catherine."

"It's none of my business."

"Ask me."

"I don't want to know."

"Ask me."

Her eyes opened on his steely brown ones and she trembled. "Did you?"

"No," Booth answered without hesitation. "No, because all I could think about was how she smelled wrong and she sounded wrong and her hair and her eyes weren't the right color." Eyes wide, heart pounding, she listened to his searing voice. "No. Because how can I move on when I know it would mean giving up the chance to be truly happy. How often do we get that, Bones? The possibility to be not just content, but to be happy, one hundred percent, disgustingly happy. You're the scientist, Bones. What is the probability of getting that chance more than once in a lifetime?"

"What if I hurt you?" she whispered in a terrified voice.

"I'm willing to take the chance." His lips brushed over hers as he asked, "Are you willing to take the chance that _I_ won't hurt _you_?"

Silently, her hands finished undoing his buttons and she pushed the shirt off him, resting her lips over his heart. It beat wildly under her mouth as she placed a deep, sucking kiss over his skin.

"Bones?" he asked hoarsely, tensely waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she responded, raising her arms above her head.

His knees went weak in relief as his hands swept up her light summer dress and it hit the floor next to his shirt. His pants followed and then her cotton bra and matching white panties. His hands glided reverently down her body, quickly followed by his lips.

"Booth," she breathed huskily and he smiled against her stomach at the sound. Discarding his underwear, he spanned her waist and boosted her up against the door. Her legs wrapped around him, head falling back as he slowly worked his hard length through satiny slick folds.

"Say it again," he murmured, gasping at the warmth spreading from his groin to every part of his body. For months he'd been freezing cold and he hadn't even realized it. "Say my name just like that, Bones."

"Booth …" Her fingers gripped his shoulders, surging blissfully into the slow rhythm of his body.

"Again," he begged, pressing his lips to her shoulder and breathing in sunshine. "Over and over again."

"Please … Booth, oh, that's perfect," Brennan gasped, eyes going blind as she chanted his name. "_Booth, oh god, BoothBoothBooth_."

_Yes! Perfect, perfect, perfect_, inner voice gasped ecstatically. _So much better when there's magic._


	11. Kinky

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Too many people to list suggested this word, so of course, I just had to go there! I guess depending on personal proclivities this might be very kinky or not very at all, haha. But this is where the word took me. DO NOT READ if you are UNDERAGE. DO NOT DO IT, I will be PISSED!

I figured this is the kind of issue that might crop up after they'd been together for a while. I mean, you don't dive into the kinky side of the pool right away, right? lol!

Enjoy!

**KINKY**

**

* * *

**

His hands had been choking the steering wheel the entire drive home and she didn't need to hear the slam of their bedroom door to know he was upset. Sighing, she detoured to the kitchen, hoping to give him some space and figure out just how exactly her conversation with Angela had garnered this reaction.

She opened cabinets, looking for a glass, still unaccustomed to their new kitchen. They had moved in together a few weeks ago and everything still felt new and strange. But Brennan had to admit that it was thrilling to open the bedroom closet and see his suits hanging next to her clothes.

Pouring herself a glass of water, she rubbed her temple, thinking back to the conversation he had walked in on when picking her up at work.

"_So, one year anniversary coming up," Angela had pointed out with a suggestive leer just as Booth walked into her office. "Any kinky plans?"_

"_Kinky?" Brennan had frowned distractedly, still immersed in the document on her computer. "No, Booth doesn't do kinky."_

"_Bones!" he'd hissed, sending both women a glare. _

"_What?" she had responded, unaware that she was on dangerous territory. "It's true, Booth. We have normal sex."_

"_Are you kidding me?" Angela had pouted in disappointment. "Not even a little bit of kink?"_

"_What? There's nothing wrong with conventional sex …" _

_Her explanation had faded as Booth had turned around abruptly, throwing a steely "I'll be in the car," over his shoulder. _

_Brennan sat there, looking at Angela in confusion. "I don't understand, we have very good sex."_

"_Oh, sweetie," Angela shook her head, feeling a little bit guilty she had started this whole thing. "Let me give you some advice. You're about to have a fight with Booth."_

"_No, I'm n-"_

"_Yes, you are," Angela interrupted patiently, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "And when you do, I suggest you stay away from words like normal and conventional."_

Brennan placed her glass in the sink and walked slowly to the bedroom, trying to make sense of everything. Opening the door, she saw that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, jacket off, tie loosened, bare feet flat on the floor. His gun was on the dresser, but his holster was still around his shoulders; spiky black hair was mussed from the agitated rake of his hand and she could see there was a muscle ticking in his jaw. There was this whole air of coiled smolder about him that made something low in her belly clench deliciously.

_Focus_, Brennan reminded herself. He was angry with her so it was unlikely that sex was on his list of activities right now. _Oh, but if it were_, a voiced purred insidiously.

"You're upset," she ventured cautiously, taking a step forward. "But I'm just not sure I understand, Booth."

"Yeah, Bones, I'm upset," he gritted out, standing up from the bed. "What the hell did you think was going to happen when I find out our sex life's not really doing it for you!"

"_What!_" Brennan gasped in horror. "That's ridiculous, I never …"

"Oh please, don't even," he interrupted, raising a hand and trying to keep from strangling her. "I'm a man, I damn well know what conventional sex means and it's never good."

"Booth …"

"Look, I know we have different views on sex, but goddamn it, Bones, it's been almost a year, I really wish …"

"That's right, Booth, a year." It was her turn to interrupt now. "You really think I've been faking orgasms for a year?"

The question took him aback and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"No," he allowed, but his eyes narrowed in consideration. "Okay, so for normal, vanilla sex it's pretty good, but that's not what you really want."

"Booth, I am very, _very_ satisfied with our sex life," she tried again, making a mental note to strangle Angela the next time she saw her.

"Right," he said softly, circling her a bit like a predator making a decision about its prey. "Satisfied." It was clear by the way he said the word that he found it offensive somehow.

"You're right, I don't do kinky," he conceded, going to stand behind her and whispering into her ear, "But you've been wanting kinky sex, haven't you, Bones?"

"I …" she hesitated, unsure of what the right answer was. Temperance Brennan was rarely unsure in her answers, but the truth was that certain things she sometimes wanted him to do to her could certainly be considered kinky and she didn't want to lie, but she also didn't want to make him think she wasn't happy. Because she was, for the first time since she was fifteen years old, she was really happy and it was all because of him; he made her deliriously happy.

"Lying is a sin, Bones," he reminded dangerously, hands cupping her hips firmly. "And I know when you lie to me anyway."

"I guess, maybe sometimes," Brennan admitted, goosebumps rising on her skin at his low, soft voice in back of her. "Just sometimes, Booth and it's not that big a deal …"

"Oh, I disagree," he murmured, guiding her forward until they were both standing in front of the full-length mirror paneling the closet door. "I haven't been giving you what you want … I think that's a very big deal."

"I just want you," she said faintly, eyes glued to his reflection in the mirror. He looked dark and dangerous at her back, holding on to her hips, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Tell me one thing you've been wanting," Booth requested softly, placing a soft kiss on the side of her neck. "I don't care how kinky or far from conventional it is, just tell me one thing and I promise I'll take it from there."

"Booth, you don't have to …"

"Temperance," he warned, one hand splayed on her stomach and pressing her flush against him. "You can be satisfied tomorrow, but tonight, I'm going to make you lose your fucking mind."

"Oh," she moaned, head dropping back against his shoulder. "Oh yes."

"Tell me."

"Touch me …" Brennan gasped, blue-green eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Touch me, but don't let me come … not until I'm desperate." She swallowed hard. "Not until I beg you."

"Submission?" he whispered in surprise and she nodded wordlessly. "You like to be dominated, Bones?"

"N-No," she admitted, licking dry lips. "I just … I've been thinking about it … with you, giving you all the control, wondering what you'd do with it … I want to know …"

He gripped her hair and tilted her head back, kissing her softly, gently, letting her know he loved her, before releasing her and taking a minute step back.

This was something she had never given to anyone else, Booth realized and he was outrageously aroused at the thought of having her at his mercy, knowing she would never trust anyone else like this. _Oh, he was going to make this so damn good for her_.

"Strip," Booth ordered, keeping track of her reaction in the mirror. "Everything except for your panties."

Wordlessly she obeyed, discarding her blouse and the red bra. Next, she stepped out of her shoes and lowered her jeans down her legs until she was standing in front of him in nothing but a tiny strip of red lace.

"So beautiful," he praised, stepping close again and pressing his fully clothed body flush against her naked skin. "So fuckin' beautiful." Arms going around her, he cupped the perfect weight of her breasts in his hands. Immediately she arched into him and he fondled the rounded globes until her breathing quickened.

She made a little sound of protest when he lowered his hands back to her waist.

"Touch them," he said, watching mesmerized as she raised her small hands and squeezed her pale breasts tightly. "Don't close your eyes."

Brennan moaned low in her throat, following the movement of his hand, trailing down her belly. Her legs parted in anticipation and he snaked his fingers under the lacy fabric, middle finger sinking inside her heat.

"Holy hell, you're so wet," Booth groaned his surprise, momentarily forgetting his role as he pumped her rhythmically.

"Yes, yes," she panted, rolling her hips and bringing him back to his senses. Slowly, he removed his hand and Brennan growled her disapproval, letting her hands fall at her side in tight little fists.

"So goddamn wet," he hissed into her ear, letting her feel the dampness he had collected on his fingers against the skin of her stomach. "So fucking ready. Are you going to make this easy for me, Bones?" His taunting words drove her crazy. "If I finger you a little harder are you going to be ready to beg me for it?"

"No," she rebelled, just like he knew she would. "I'm not going to beg."

"Yes, you are," he disagreed, teeth scraping the curve of her shoulder. "Feel how wet you are … touch yourself, baby."

Brennan considered rebelling, but the thought was fleeting and quickly displaced by his teeth on her skin, letting her know he expected obedience. Dipping one hand into her panties, she used two fingers on herself, pressing hard against her clit. Grabbing her hips, he let her feel his erection against the soft swell of her bottom. Booth could tell by the increasingly loud moans that she was getting close. In the mirror, he watched her getting herself off and couldn't hold back his own tortured groan. When her eyes darkened to the azure color he had long ago learned to recognize, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her frenzied strokes.

"No," she cried, but he whirled her around, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. "Damn it, Booth!"

He chuckled as he straddled her on the bed and took off his loosened tie. Grabbing her hands, he raised her arms above her head and looped the fabric expertly around her wrists. Satisfied that her wandering hands were under control, Booth hooked his fingers on her panties and dragged them down her legs, enjoying the way she writhed under him. The only piece of fabric on her was the tie binding her wrists.

"Looks like you've got a kinky side too, choir boy," she taunted, not even bothering to struggle against the bindings. His eyes narrowed at the brazen words and he easily flipped her over, giving a soft smack to her ass.

"I don't think you're in any position to sass me," Booth reminded her, shrugging out of his holster and pristine white shirt. His pants and underwear quickly followed and then he was hovering over her, pressing hot kisses along her spine. Like a kitten, she arched into him and he braced his knees on the bed at either side of her, skimming his hands up the sides of her body and decorating her back with tiny little bites. "You are all tied up and under me, Bones, I definitely think you should be a little nicer."

"Oh god," she moaned, rocking back into him; unsure whether to laugh or cry at how good he was at this. "Booth …"

"You feel that … it's for you, Bones," he murmured huskily, grabbing her hips and rubbing his cock against her ass. "You want it inside you?"

"Yes, damn it, yes!" she snarled.

"You know what you have to do," he replied, dropping wet kisses over her smooth back. "Beg me for it, baby."

"Fuck you," Brennan cursed instead and he dropped another chastising smack on her rear end.

"That's quite a dirty mouth you have there, Bones," he noted sternly, but his lips trailed down her body until he was pressing kisses all over the rounded curves, soothing the barely there pink mark his palm had left on the soft skin.

Settling between her legs, he used his tongue on her, dipping lower to taste her. His tongue licked lazily as if he had all the time in the world and she panted and moaned and breathed his name as he worked her into a frenzy. Brennan nearly sobbed when he stopped, dropping kisses back up her body as he covered her with his weight, his erection nestled right between her cheeks.

"Booth, god," she said desperately. "I need you, god, I fucking need you."

He swallowed, pressing his face to the dip between her shoulder blades, his knees on either side of her hips keeping her from bucking too wildly. She had never, ever had to ask him twice, he was always more than willing to give her whatever she wanted. And giving her what she wanted was always straightforward; no begging, no power plays, no _kink_. But turned out she wanted all three and he was going to give them to her.

Smoothing one hand down her supple body, he let his fingertips trail the line dividing the curves of her ass until reaching her open core. He palmed her from behind, the pads of his fingers rubbing the length of her slit, back and forth, without penetration.

"Damn it, damn it," Brennan cursed, using her knees to rock back into him, the desperate throbbing between her legs about to break her. "Booth," she purred his name. "Just fuck me already, you know you want to."

"I do want to," Booth conceded, inserting one fingertip inside and pumping slowly. "I want to do very dirty things to you, Bones," he confessed huskily into her ear. "Things I'd never thought to do to anyone else and I think about them sometimes and they make me hot and they make me blush and I can't even bear to say them aloud."

"Oh, oh, Booth," her voice quivered, his shyness and his boldness like a damn aphrodisiac.

"You want to know?" Even as he asked the question, his fingers moved, gathering her wetness and spreading it higher.

"Yes," she whispered and for the first time used the magic word. "Yes, please, tell me."

"Has anyone ever had you like this?" he asked, his voice so soft, so obscenely alluring. "You've ever gotten your tight little ass fucked, Bones?" On the question, he inserted one fingertip, lubricated with her own arousal, into her.

"No," Brennan gasped, head thrown back, ass automatically pushing up into his finger. "Oh god!"

"No? I've never had anyone like this either," he admitted, pushing deeper and groaning as she contracted around his finger. "But, oh Bones, I want to have you. I want to have you every fucking way there is."

"Booth," she moaned, feeling like she could come just from the sound of his voice and the pressure of his finger, pumping her ass slowly. "Oh, hell, Booth …"

"Are you feeling desperate yet, Temperance?" he inquired, adding a second finger and stretching her out a little. The pressure was making her delirious. Contrasting with the pounding, throbbing feeling in her core, she felt empty and invaded at the same time. As his fingers massaged her softy from the inside, the need for relief was rising like a desperate scream pulsing to be shouted.

"Yes!" she nearly sobbed, her vaginal muscles squeezing emptily. "Yes, you know I am!"

"Then beg me, Bones," he ordered. "Beg me to take you the way no one else has before."

"Please," she gave in helplessly, head dropping to the pillow between her bound arms. "Please, do it. Please, Booth … I want to feel you, oh god, please make me come …"

Over and over again, he dipped his fingers to her soaked sex, spreading the moisture higher and lubricating her with her own juices until she was barely coherent. Wrapping the drenched fingers around himself, he coated his stiff erection with her delicious wetness. On a groan, he finally grasped her cheeks and settled the tip of his cock where his fingers had been. "This is just between you and me, baby," Booth whispered, pressing his lips to her nape and oh so slowly pressing inside her tight little hole.

"Oh my god," he breathed, the feel a shock to his system. "So tight, _so fuckin' tight_." The pleasure was so good, it was outrageous, but the incredibly tight fit that made him nearly delirious also terrified him. "Shit … oh shit, baby, am I hurting you?"

"No, fuck, no," Brennan gasped, clenching and relaxing her muscles as his incredibly hard length filled her up snugly. "So. Damn. Good. Please, please don't stop."

"Jesus, oh fuck," he gritted out, going all the way in, before slowly, _so fucking slowly_, pulling out. She let out a harsh sound and he froze. "Bones … baby, tell me if …"

"Booth!" Her voice was a near scream as she thrust her ass back into him. "Move … just a little faster, please," she begged, eyes squeezed shut. "I need, I need …"

The words faded off on a whimper as he surged back in, controlled but setting a faster rhythm. Splaying one hand on her stomach, Booth pressed her against him and slipped the other one between her legs. The second his fingers smoothed over her clit, her body jerked, a desperate sound he'd never heard before escaping her lips.

"YES! Oh fuck yes, _yesyesyesyes!_" She chanted the word madly, in rhythm with his fingers dipping faster and faster in and out of her and his very hard cock stretching her out deliciously from behind.

"Break for me," he whispered hoarsely, a thin line of sweat down his back testament to the frayed ends of his own control. "C'mon, baby, don't hold back."

On a broken sob, she shuddered and then screamed, the pleasure spreading through her almost like pain, leaving her a sweaty, destroyed, trembling mess under him. She didn't even hear his own harsh cry of relief as he pumped himself dry inside her, his fingers still inside her body jerking uncontrollably through his own climax.

Brennan whimpered when he carefully slipped out of her, the dull ache telling her she was going to be sore tomorrow. _Oh, but so fucking worth it_. Booth collapsed next to her, eyes glazed, breathing harsh and choppy.

"Booth," she said weakly, turning her head on the pillow. "My hands …"

His eyes snapped to the tie binding her wrists above her head. "Oh, baby," he whispered, gently rolling her onto her back and quickly freeing her from the white and green striped fabric.

"Are you okay?" Booth asked softly, bringing her arms down and pressing his lips to her wrists, even though there were no marks from the silk tie.

"Of course," Brennan reassured, giving him a dazed smile. "That was incredible."

His head dropped to her chest and she combed her fingers through his hair. "Jesus Christ, Bones," he breathed against her skin and she chuckled at the hint of embarrassed flush she could hear in his voice.

"New perspective on kinky, Agent Booth?" she murmured, absently skimming her fingers along the defined planes of his back.

"Oh god," he groaned, still slightly stunned. "I came so damn hard."

"Did you?" Brennan purred, draping one thigh over him and rubbing softly against him.

Raising his head from her chest, he looked down into sparkling eyes, the intense blue already turning a lighter hue.

"You know I did," Booth smirked, giving a tiny nip to her shoulder and running his hand over the back of her thigh. "And I'm going to need a nap even if all you have in mind for round two is vanilla sex."

"Don't start—" She landed a warning smack across his chest. "I already told you …"

"I know what you told me and I … maybe … might have been a little oversensitive about the issue," he conceded, pressing a conciliatory kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"If that's your way of saying you overreacted and arrived at an illogical conclusion unsupported by the evidence, then I agree."

Booth chuckled and draped an arm over her waist, tucking her into his side. "Listen," he said, growing serious. "Doesn't matter what type of sex you want, just as long as you want it with me."

"I want all types of sex with you," she said, gasping when his hand stroked up her side and palmed one breast.

"Good," Booth rumbled, squeezing gently and feeling her tight little nipple drilling into the palm of his hand.

"I thought—" her hand covered his and she arched into their joined hands,"—you wanted to nap."

"I do," he assured, even as his lips skimmed across her chest and he replaced his hand with his mouth. He sucked gently on the tip, enjoying the soft little sighs she was making as her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him against her breast.

With a soft pop he released her, running sweet kisses up to her lips. Brennan melted into him, deliciously loose and relaxed.

"From now on, I want to know, Bones," he said a little sleepily against her lips. "Kinky, conventional, whatever, I want to know what you want."

"Okay," Brennan agreed, tongue swiping out and lazily tracing his bottom lip. "Same goes for you, though. Those dirty, kinky thoughts that make you blush," she reminded him. "I want to know too."

Booth smiled, eyes drifting shut, one arm around her waist holding her securely to him. As always, his fingertips continued to move over her skin in a lulling caress even as he drifted off. "That's a deal."


	12. Laundry

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. Not at all.

A/n: Word comes courtesy of **_kate, CSI-4077_**, and **_ElisaSpain_**. This was a difficult letter as I was completely unsure what I wanted the fight to be about, but I figured fights can't just be about kinkiness and hickeys and jealousy as people fight about the mundane all the time too. Okay, this is the first non-drabble, non- crazy AU thing I've written since the finale, so here goes.

**LAUNDRY**

**

* * *

**

"BOOTH!"

Uh-uh. _Shit, not again_, he prayed, jumping up from the couch and rushing to the laundry room. Unfortunately, he recognized that particular shout, had heard it quite a few times already in the four and a half months they'd been living together.

But he'd been so damn careful this time when he put the clothes in the washer, knowing that if she found another ruined article of clothing when she moved the clothes to the dryer, he would likely end up missing a limb.

"Bones …" Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by her deadly glare.

"Everything is pink, Booth," she accused through gritted teeth, transferring wet after wet pink clothing from the washer to the dryer.

"Baby, I have no idea what happened," he tried to soothe, wincing as he remembered that most of the clothes in that load were hers.

"_This_ is what happened," Brennan hissed, fishing a red sock—his, of course—out of the washer. "God, Booth, this is ridiculous," she ranted, throwing the offending sock with barely concealed frustration in the empty laundry basket by her feet. "Every damn time you do laundry, something like this happens."

"That's not true," he said weakly, but the truth was that he was not nearly as conscientious as she was about separating colors from whites and delicates from whatever the hell else there was. My god, it was laundry, but the way she did it, one would think it was some dangerous equation that had to be perfectly balanced.

"It's like you don't even listen," she railed, closing the lid of the dryer with a near violent slam and hitting the button viciously. The machine came to life and the pink clothes started spinning, and _she_ was getting more wound up by the minute. "I'm tired of finding ruined clothes every time you put a load of laundry in the damn washer."

"I'm sorry—"

"God, no wonder living alone is an optimal condition in …" The frustrated words trailed off as Brennan realized what she was saying, but his own temper was already flaring at the reckless sentence.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His eyes narrowed and anger washed over him as the extent of her squinty words hit him. "What are you saying, Bones?" His entire body went tense. "Are you saying you don't want to do this anymore? That you want to live alone?"

"I just—" Brennan raked a frustrated hand over her hair, "—I'm not used to living with someone else, I'm not good at it."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Booth almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Almost. "You want to bail because of _laundry_?"

"Bail?" Brennan frowned, pretty certain she knew what the colloquialism meant in this case. "Who said anything about bailing?"

"_You_ just did, Bones," he hissed, nearly unable to believe his rational, composed partner had lost her mind over laundry. That made no damn sense. Of course, it wasn't about laundry, he thought sourly, it was about whatever panic button their living arrangements had triggered. "You're not pissed about the laundry, are you?"

"Oh yes, I am."

"No, the laundry is just an excuse," he accused, all righteous indignation. "This is really about you wanting to bail and …"

"Oh, would you stop saying that," Brennan demanded. _It really, truly was about the laundry_, she thought darkly, two of her favorite blouses now stained forever pink in the damn drying cycle.

"Do you want to move out?"

Booth's stark question brought her out of her reverie and she realized her frustrated words had opened a brand new avenue of distress she'd never had any intention of veering towards. His shoulders were tense and his face blank and Brennan automatically softened, knowing he didn't realize that this was really about laundry and not any insecurities about their living situation.

"No," she said honestly. "Living alone is easier, yes," Brennan admitted. "My clothes were never pink when I lived by myself, but I didn't mean …" She sighed softly as her frustration and annoyance abated. "Despite the laundry fiasco, I like living with you."

"I like living with you too," Booth murmured, relaxing a little as he realized she was being honest. "So, it really is about the laundry," he said, slightly awed.

"Yes, you idiot," she growled, but the insult was almost an endearment. "I'm sorry, I was just very annoyed. I don't want to move out just because you ruin the laundry." In truth, laundry aside, living with him was very satisfying. She liked going home to him and it made her ridiculously smug that he came home to her.

"Gotta say, fighting over laundry is very domestic, Bones," he noted, crossing the small distance between them and circling his arms around her. "I'm sure we can find more exciting things to argue about," he whispered, backing her against the dryer and nuzzling his face against her neck.

"Okay," she agreed huskily, tilting her head to the side. "But we really gotta do something about this, because if you ruin another load, I'm going to turn all your suits pink and make you wear them to work."

Booth chuckled against her neck, even as he realized the solution to this was ridiculously simple. "Bones, we'll just put our clothes in different hampers and we won't have to worry about separating all those delicate, lacy things you wear from my red socks."

"That's …" She marveled at the quite simple solution. "Wow, why haven't we been doing that?"

"Don't know," he mumbled, kissing her slim throat and unbuttoning the soft white cotton shorts she liked to wear around the house. They pooled at her feet and he lifted her out of them, sitting her on top of the still spinning dryer. Her flip-flops fell to the floor as his hands swept under the ancient, paint-splattered T-shirt she was wearing and closed over her unfettered breasts.

His moan mixed with hers as Booth swept the T-shirt up, dropping it in the laundry basket on the floor and joining the lonesome red sock.

"God, it makes me so fucking hot to put my hands under your shirt and find you naked," he breathed, massaging her full, high breasts. "I'm really sorry about your clothes, baby."

"So, we are making up in the laundry room, I gather?" On the question, her head tipped back, torso arching wantonly into his magic hands.

"And you're wearing nothing but a pink pair of panties," he realized. "I think that's called irony, Bones."

His mouth trailed down her throat to suck on her nipples until they were wet and achy and she didn't care what it was called, she only cared about one thing. The vibrations under her, in combination with his mouth were about to set her off so quickly it was ridiculous.

"Booth," she gasped, tunneling her hands in his hair as he trailed hot kisses back up her chest, his hands skimming down her waist and over her thighs. Using two fingers, he rubbed her delicately though the panties, the silky material deliciously soaked through.

"Oh yes," Brennan panted, spreading her thighs, the breathy moan curling around him like a fist. "Oh, that feels good."

After rubbing her through those soaked panties a few more seconds, Booth removed his fingers, settling his hands at her waist.

"Don't stop," she protested, the fingers in his hair tightening. "I'm so close."

"I know you are," he whispered in her ear, sweeping his hands to her spread thighs as he stepped completely between them. His fingers tightened, keeping her from locking her legs around him and dampening the effect the vibrating machine was having on her core. "You're the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She leaned forward and closed her teeth over his shoulder, marking him even over the fabric of the T-shirt.

"You're going to come for me like this, Bones," he demanded silkily, the words low and soft against her ear. "Nothing but the vibrations and my voice."

Heat swept through her and she whimpered. "I … I can't."

"Yes, you can," Booth disagreed huskily, keeping his hands firmly around her thighs, his lips right at her ear. "Just imagine it's that little vibrating toy that you love for me to use on you." Her hands slid down from his hair to grasp his shoulders as he continued to assault her with his voice.

"It drives me crazy to use that thing on you. It really does. To see you writhing under me while I work it inside you. To know that as good as it feels, as loud as you moan when I make you come with it, that it feels even better when I replace it with my cock." Under his hands her thighs quivered and her fingers dug viciously into his shoulders. "You moan even louder then, Bones."

Her body shuddered, head tipping back and exposing the delicate line of her throat. Booth couldn't help the feather-light brush of his lips across the smooth expanse of skin.

"Booth." Faint and hoarse.

"And holy god, it feels good to be inside you," his ridiculously strained voice informed her. "I always think I know what it's like, but somehow, you feel even hotter and tighter than the memory in my mind." His words landed hotly against her throat, arousing her to a fever pitch. "How is that possible? How can it get better every damn time? How can I want anything this badly? Tell me it's the same for you, Bones."

"Booth …"

"Tell me."

"Yes," she moaned, squeezing her eyes tightly, balancing desperately on the ledge. Just one little push. "God. _Oh god_."

"Let go, let go, baby," he seduced softly, trying to keep his eyes open to watch her smolder just for him. "Let go just the way you do every time I'm inside you and your legs are wrapped around me and I'm riding you so hard I think I'm going to pass out …"

Her eyes flashed open and her hands flew to his face, holding him in place as her mouth crushed down on his, body shuddering in relief. He swallowed her soft, little cries, finally releasing her thighs to wrap his arms around her. Instinctively, her legs closed around him, holding on as the orgasm blazed through her in one sweeping wave.

Releasing his mouth, Brennan buried her face in his neck, her hectic breathing against his skin sending goosebumps through every inch of him. Keeping his arms around her waist, he slid her off the drying machine and walked out of the laundry room.

She sighed softly, settling her head on his shoulder and he palmed her panty-covered bottom with one hand as he headed for their bedroom.

"Bones, if you fall asleep on me, I'm going to cry," Booth murmured, groaning softly as her fingertips strummed over his nape.

"Don't worry, I'm wide awake," she reassured, tightening her legs around his waist and rubbing against his erection. Her hands slid under his T-shirt, nails gently scoring across his back. "I'm never going to be able to get mad inside that laundry room again," Brennan realized.

"No?" He kicked the bedroom door shut behind them, kissing the curve of her shoulder.

"Of course not," she muttered, turning her head to find his mouth and biting down on his bottom lip. "Only thing I'll ever be able to feel inside that room again is turned on."

* * *

**-x-**

_**M words? The more the merrier!**_


	13. Money

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Shout-out to anyone from Texas or anyone who's been to the water park I'm talking about here! :)

**MONEY  
**

* * *

"Is he still pouting?" Booth asked with a sigh.

On the other side of the phone line, Rebecca's own sigh came through quite clearly as she answered in the affirmative. Booth paced his living room, pausing momentarily when he heard the front door, before resuming his lap around the couch.

"I hate that he's so unhappy," he said, walking forward to help Brennan with the mountain of files she was carting through the door. "But he's got to understand the word no."

Placing a distracted kiss on her lips, he dumped the files on the table and resumed his pacing.

"So he hates both of us, huh?" he surmised from Rebecca's long-suffering explanation of Parker's behavior. "But we agree on this, right? All right, let me know if … ha, yeah, I suppose he will. Okay, Becs, tell him I love him. Good-night."

"Booth?" Brennan frowned, watching as he closed the phone and flopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. "What's going on? Is something wrong with Parker?"

"No, he just hates me right now," he said mournfully. "Well, not just me, Rebecca's getting her share of hate as well."

"Why?"

"There's this school trip to some huge water park in Texas," Booth explained, tilting his head back on the couch. "I mean they'll be going to museums and stuff like that too, but the main attraction is this massive water park and apparently all his friends are going and we are the worst parents in the whole dang universe because we said no."

"Why did you say no?" Brennan asked, puzzled.

"Well, for one, it is ridiculously expensive," Booth griped, grabbing her hand and pulling her down on the sofa next to him. "But more importantly, he picked his trip last month and now he's throwing a tantrum because he wants to have both."

"Last month?" Brennan thought back. "You mean for his birthday?"

"Yeah. The school notified us about this trip a while ago, so we told Parker that he could pick what he wanted for his birthday. We could pay for the school trip or for that Disney trip he wanted."

Brennan knew Rebecca and her husband had taken Parker and a couple of his friends on a birthday trip to Florida, which had included visits to Disney World and Cape Canaveral and when they'd gotten back, Booth had taken the boys camping for the weekend.

"He's really upset, but Rebecca and I made it clear he had to pick," Booth said again, and it was obvious he was trying to battle back the instinctive need to give his son whatever he wanted. "I mean, the trip to Florida was very expensive and we told him he couldn't change his mind later."

"Yes, but he's twelve, Booth," Brennan pointed out. "The trip with his friends was then, whereas the school trip was in some distant future. Classic confrontation between immediate and delayed gratification."

"Bones," he gasped in mock-horror, "that's psychology!"

"Maybe," she sniffed. "But studies have shown that the younger one is, the harder it is to wait in order to obtain something we want."

"I hate that he's so upset," Booth said softly, leaning his head on her shoulder. "I really do."

"I know," she comforted, running a soothing hand through his hair. "Booth, why don't you let me pay for his trip and …"

His eyes had fallen shut at her lazy strokes, but now they popped open and stopped her in her tracks.

"No," he said categorically.

"It can be my birthday present to him."

"Bones, you already gave him a present," he retorted quickly. "A pretty darn expensive one."

"But Booth …"

"No." He jumped up from the couch, determined to end the discussion. "Parker knew that his mom and I could only pay for one trip. We told him to think carefully about his decision and he did."

"Booth, he's a child," Brennan pointed out. "How carefully do you think he really thought about it? Look, it's really not that big a deal, I have the money, so why can't I …"

"Because, Bones, it's _your_ money." He walked to the bedroom, the stubborn set of his jaw mirroring his attitude. "In any case, Parker needs to learn that he can't have everything he wants."

"But in this case, he actually _can_ have what he wants," she pointed out reasonably.

"Bones, I'm not fighting with you over this," he said with finality. "I'm not letting you pay for Parker's trip."

"I understand that you have some typical male views on money." Brennan closed their bedroom door with a little bit more force than necessary to indicate her own annoyance with him on this issue. It wasn't the first—and likely would not be the last—time that they'd butted heads on this matter, particularly since moving in together a year ago. "But you're being quite unreasonable—"

"Oh, here we go …"

"—especially when considering the fact that if I were dead, this wouldn't even be an issue," Brennan continued on, blithely ignoring him. "So I don't understand why …"

"Stop right there." Booth raised a hand, one word jumping out. "Dead? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Money, Booth." Her voice took that reasonable tone that usually tended to raise his blood pressure because he knew she was about to explain something that in _her_ mind—and her mind only—was utterly reasonable. "As my beneficiary, if I died you would have plenty of money and thus would be able to send Parker on any trip he wanted. Thus, in essence, he is being penalized for the fact that I'm not dead."

"Oh my god," he breathed, a strange mix of horror and shock in the three words. Booth had no idea how to even approach her crazy argument, but he didn't care; at the moment, he had one immediate concern. "What the hell do you mean beneficiary?"

"A beneficiary is someone who …"

"I know what the hell it is, Bones!" He roared the words and she blinked in surprise. "You're telling me, if … if—" he couldn't bring himself to say the word, "—something happens to you, I get your damn money?"

"Well, not all of it." There was caution now in her explanation because she could see that muscle ticking in his jaw; she was intimately acquainted with it and it usually meant he was very displeased. "Some of it will go to my favorite charity and, you know, Russ and his family, and my dad, if he's still alive." Her brow furrowed in consideration. "Although, considering his age and dangerous propensities, it is unlikely that …"

"Temperance." His nostrils flared at her tangent. "Focus."

Uh-uh, her first name. That was rarely good, she'd come to find out. Coughing delicately, Brennan said quickly, "In any case, yes, if I die, you would inherit a considerable portion of my estate."

"No." And just in case she had failed to understand, he repeated, "No, no, no, no."

"Booth," she laughed a little at his reaction. "You'll be inheriting money, not an incurable disease."

"No, I don't … I can't … I don't want it."

"Booth, what's the big deal?" He sounded almost tormented and she was slightly baffled. "What did you think would happen to my money if I died?"

"Stop saying that!" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, feeling slightly nauseous. "I guess I never thought about it." And he should have, Booth realized, she was too organized and anal not to have a will. A sudden thought occurred and he narrowed his eyes on her. "Parker's in your will too, isn't he?"

For a second, Brennan wondered if the admission would send him over the edge and she hesitated. But the more she considered his reaction, the more it angered her. "Yes." Her chin tilted up in defiance. "Both of you are."

"Take me out of it." The words were quiet and they hurt something inside her that she couldn't even name.

"No." Arms crossed in front of her, she stared him down. "I'm not changing it, so you're going to have to take your male pride and deal with it."

"I'm not kidding around here, Temperance."

"Neither am I, _Seeley_." Two could play the first name game and she nearly sneered his now, letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was not backing down.

"Goddamn it!" The curse was hoarse, but nearly screamed and Booth fisted his hands in frustration. "I don't want the fucking money."

Brennan swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Tough."

"Bones …" His anger seemed to deflate suddenly and he dropped down on the edge of the bed, looking at her with pleading eyes. "Don't. Please, just don't."

Helpless against him, she moved closer. His arms shot out, winding around her waist and his forehead dropped to her stomach.

"You're my family," Brennan whispered softly, hands threading through his hair. "Isn't that what you always say?" She fought past the confusion and hurt; why was he rejecting this so vehemently? It was a well-established custom in modern society to leave your earthly possessions to those closest to you when death claimed you. "Family members are expected to be in someone's will. It's normal, Booth. Why are you rejecting that?"

Booth drew his head back to look up at her, understanding making his heart clench. _Why are you rejecting me?_ That's what she was really asking and it shredded him.

"If something happened to you," Booth swallowed and forced himself to say it, "if you die, I do not want to be called into some lawyer's office and be informed that I'm a goddamn millionaire."

"Don't you see?" he begged her to understand. "You're dead and all of a sudden I'm rich? That's wrong, Bones." His fingers dug into her skin, even as hers continued to stroke through his hair. "I know it seems ridiculous, losing my mind like this because you want to leave me piles of your money, but god … god, baby, I can't stand the thought."

In their line of work, it was the kind of thought that simply couldn't be internalized without going a little bit mad. Not to mention that he was in love with a woman that attracted danger like a magnet and he had to seriously keep thoughts like that at bay or lose his mind every time she wasn't within touching distance. But now, this whole crazy debacle was bringing some pretty terrifying scenarios to the surface and it was making his heart pound in anxiety.

Needing to feel skin, he pushed up her shirt, pressing his cheek to the soft, warm skin of her belly. "It's not a rejection of you," Booth pressed his lips to her bare stomach, desperate to make her understand, "it's a rejection of what being in that will represents."

"Booth …" Her throat closed up at the way he was pressing open-mouthed kisses in a reverent trail over her skin.

"Nothing will ever be right without you." His hands moved her forward until she settled on his lap, knees bracketing his hips on the bed. Booth removed her shirt, dropping it on the floor and she clasped his shoulders, back arching automatically as his lips glided over her. "Can't even think about it."

"Okay," she whispered in reassurance, cupping one hand around his nape gently.

Fingertips ran up her spine, unhooking her bra easily and the simple navy cotton joined her shirt on the floor. When his mouth closed over one budded nipple, Brennan's head tipped back on a soft groan. Hands splayed on her back, supporting her torso and allowing him to devastate her with wet, hungry kisses.

"We'll compromise," Brennan offered hoarsely, rocking forward into the press of his lips, hands palming the back of his skull. "The personal items that I want you to have will still go to you, but I'll change the monetary amount."

"Bones," he buried his face against her neck, "I'm sorry I lost it." Inhaling deeply, he nearly trembled at her familiar scent. He had become addicted to that smell; on their sheets, on his clothes, on his skin. "It's your will; you can do whatever you want."

Booth attempted to be reasonable, knowing he had veered sharply off the sanity path for a moment there. But he couldn't help murmuring, "Just don't leave me." His arms tightened almost painfully around her, for a second giving in to all the fears he carefully kept at bay. "Don't leave me. Don't ever let me have to sit in some office listening to someone read me your will."

They both knew it wasn't the kind of promise anyone could make, but she slipped her hands under his t-shirt, stroking soothingly. "I'm right here." Muscle and skin warmed under the gentle glide of her palms. "I'm not planning on going anywhere." Carefully, she ran her teeth along his jaw line, raising goosebumps on his skin. "It'll be very hard for you to get rid of me."

Booth smiled at the playful words, tension easing slowly as her hands stroked him and her sharp little teeth nibbled on his flesh. He loved when she got playful because he knew it was a part of her very few people saw. Oh, but he got to see it and it never failed to drive him crazy.

"Ya think?" Slipping out of his shoes, Booth flicked off her sandals and pinned her under him on the bed. "And here I was thinking getting rid of you would be so easy."

"Wrong." Brennan sighed in satisfaction as he settled between her legs. "I believe the correct phrase is you're stuck with me, Booth."

"Mmm, that is correct." He placed soft kisses on the slope of her shoulders, rocking gently against her. His hands spanned her ribcage, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. "Looks like I should have read the fine print on you, huh?"

"You sure … oh, that's nice." Her eyes closed on a gasp when his hands glided up and palmed her breasts.

"Oh yeah?" His thumbs dragged back and forth on her pretty, pink nipples, making her writhe under his hands. "You like that?"

"Take this off," Brennan groaned, fisting the edge of his t-shirt and tugging up. "It's only fair."

Booth released her for a second to raise his arms, allowing her to divest him of his shirt. Before it even hit the floor, he had his hands back on her, cupping her soft, round breasts and massaging the pliable flesh. She moaned and arched into him even as her hands swept over his bare chest. When her nails raked lightly over him, Booth groaned into the side of her neck.

"You know what's not fair?" His mouth opened on the curve of her shoulder and he sucked hard. "You and your delicious skin." Her legs tightened around him as his mouth ran a line of hard, sucking kisses across her collarbone.

"You're marking me," she gasped, eyes nearly rolling back at the pleasure. Nothing so barbaric should feel so good, but all she wanted was more. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the skin, making some marks of her own.

"I know." He couldn't stop, his mouth leaving a trail of pink marks all over. The sting of her nails made him rock harder between her legs. They were only naked from the waist up, but it felt ridiculously erotic to be rolling around half-naked with her on their bed. "Mark me back."

Whispering his name, Brennan pressed kisses on his chest, using teeth and tongue over one flat nipple. Booth let out a soft moan and cupped her bottom in his hands, grinding his jean-clad erection right between her thighs. Gasping, she bit down on his shoulder and rocked against him. Unable to stop, she trailed little bites along the curve of one shoulder and up to his neck.

"Bones," he moaned, lowering his head and popping one straining nipple into his mouth. First, he swirled his tongue over it and then he suckled the budded peak. She was going crazy under him, her breathing harsher and harsher with every tilt of her hips.

"_Yes_." The single desperate word was breathed against the curve of his shoulder as her arms went tight around him.

"Oh damn, baby," Booth panted, "I'm gonna come."

Even through the soft material of her slacks and the rougher one from his jeans, the stimulation was unraveling him. Her nails scraped down his back, until she was sliding her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Her fingers dug into him and Booth's lips moved across the valley between her breasts to her neglected nipple. His tongue rasped over the tip before his mouth closed over the sensitive bud in a light suction.

"Suck me harder." The husky command arrowed straight to his cock and when he sucked her flesh, he wasn't messing around. Hard and a little rough and with a hint of teeth. She damn near sobbed his name and his fingers dug reflexively into her rounded bottom, grinding her perfectly into him. And when he came, everything disappeared: parental frustration, worries and fears that simmered just under the surface, the horrifying implications she had unwittingly sparked that day. There was nothing but her under him; soft and warm and his.

Brennan shuddered and melted, sliding her hands out of his pockets to stroke his bare back. The muscles rippled under her fingers as he rested his cheek on her chest, listening to her pounding heartbeat. Lazily, she combed her fingers through his hair as their breathing evened out, along with their heartbeats.

Booth sighed, pressing his lips to her skin in one exquisitely tender kiss, before raising his head to look at her. "I love you."

She cupped his face in her hands gently, brushing her lips over his. The caress was soft, just two bodies connecting because they needed to feel the bond. "You know if I can help it, I'll never leave you."

Winding his arms around her waist, Booth rolled to his back, settling her body on top of his. Sweeping his hands up into her hair, he tugged her head down and kissed her deeply, letting her know he understood what she was trying to say. It always amazed him how she always knew the right thing to say to him. She was blunt to a fault and could always say the most inappropriate things, but when it mattered most, she knew. From the beginning, with him, she just knew.

"I love you so much, Bones," he said again, repeating the words just because they were true.

Brennan smiled sweetly down at him, fingertips feathering lightly over his bottom lip. "Does that mean you'll let me pay for Parker's trip?"

He smiled at her sneakiness. "No." She pouted and he ran his knuckles lovingly over one cheek. "But I will try not to freak out about your will, all right."

"Anymore than you already have, you mean?"

"Right." Booth chuckled at the arch tone. "Look, you can pay for the next thing Parker wants," he compromised, kissing her stubborn chin. "But on this one, he has to learn his lesson."

"I suppose so," Brennan grumbled, even as she rested her head on his chest. The pads of his fingers were moving up and down her back in an automatic caress and she let out a little humming sound he recognized.

"Baby, you can't go to sleep." Booth stroked one hand up to cup her nape and squeezed lightly. "I'm a mess and you can't be comfortable in those pants either. We have to change."

"In a minute."

"In a minute you'll be asleep." With a kiss to her shoulder, he carefully tipped her to the side and sat up on the bed.

"I thought you loved me," she complained, having been disturbed from her comfortable position on top of him.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder and had to laugh at the adorably disgruntled look on her face. She was sprawled on the bed, naked from the waist up and looked as if she had no intention of moving.

With a little growl, he straddled her legs and peeled off her slacks. "I love you madly and you know it." He covered her with a sheet and threw the pants over the side of the bed. Leaning down, he placed a quick kiss on her lips, but when he moved back, she threw her arms around him, making him laugh.

"I'll be back," he murmured, nuzzling her neck and melting at her playfulness. "Don't go anywhere."

"Okay," she sighed sleepily, releasing him and snuggling into the pillow.

By the time he changed his jeans for a clean pair of boxers, she was fast asleep. Sliding under the covers with her, Booth smiled when she instinctively rolled into him. His arms went around her and he closed his eyes.

She was safe in his arms and, right then, that was all that mattered.


	14. Nightclub

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/N: Word of the day courtesy of **_EmmyMayyy_**. Special thanks to the awesome _**Dispatch22705**_ for toiling with me through the letter N, haha, you're so the best!

**NIGHTCLUB  
**

* * *

The knock on the door surprised her.

Angela was early, she thought and Brennan supposed that maybe her friend was concerned that she would change her mind about tonight.

Her bare feet were soundless on the floor as she went to open the door. "I already said, I was going …" Her voice stopped short as she looked at her visitor. "Booth." Automatically, she stepped aside to let him in. "I thought you were Angela."

"Yeah, no." He extended a thick file. "You took the wrong one when you left my office today, and I kinda need the one you took."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brennan apologized, taking the correct file from him. "I left the other one at the Jeffersonian since I didn't bring any work home tonight." Turning around, she placed it on a coffee table. "I'll drop it off at your office tomorrow."

"Bones," Booth said in a strangled voice, "your dress."

"Oh." Brennan turned her head automatically; she'd forgotten her dress was unzipped. "It's difficult to zip by myself, I was waiting for Angela to get here …"

Without a word, Booth crossed the distance between them and without touching any skin, zipped up the dress swiftly. "So, you're going out with Angela?"

"Yes." She turned around, feeling strangely self-conscious. "To some new nightclub she's found." Brennan shrugged. "She says that just because she's married now, doesn't mean we can't go out dancing."

"Dancing." Booth's eyes raked over her body and she suddenly felt naked. "Yeah. Right."

Her spine stiffened at the way he said the words because even _she_ could hear the disdain in his voice. "I don't like your tone."

Booth shrugged and even though the gesture was casual, he was feeling anything but. "Angela may be going to this nightclub to dance," he conceded, "but _you_ are not."

"I don't know what you're implying, but—"

"I'm not implying shit, Bones," he spat, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to get the hell out of her apartment before he said something stupid. "I'm saying it. You're going to this nightclub to get laid and you know it."

_Too late_.

Too late to keep his mouth shut, too late to back down. He should have walked out the door, the second he handed her the file, but damn it, Booth knew he was right. She could protest all she wanted, but he was a man and he knew when a woman was hunting sex. No fuckin' way that slinky little dress was for dancing.

_That fucking dress. _

At first glance it seemed to be a little black dress, but upon a second look, Booth realized it wasn't black at all. It still reminded him tauntingly of Vegas. So many years ago, but he could still picture her in that black dress with crystal clear quality. But this one was not only midnight blue, it was even shorter and tighter than the one he picked out so long ago. And somehow, she looked even more alluring in it— so much beautiful, pale skin on display, it made his teeth ache.

"I didn't know you had magical powers all of a sudden," Brennan said coldly, horrified to feel a flush staining her cheeks.

"I don't need magic powers," Booth shot back, just as coldly. "I just need to look at you to know that you're looking for sex tonight." And my god, the way she looked in that dress, she sure as fuck was going to find it.

"That's insulting," she snarled, walking past him with the intention of showing him the door.

"No," he growled. "It's just the truth." Without warning, his hand shot out and he grabbed her arm, right above her elbow, keeping her from walking by him.

"You like the truth, don't you, Bones?" The words were soft, but taunting and she battled back the itch to slap his beautiful face. "And the truth is that you're wearing that short, tight dress for a reason. I already know you're not wearing a bra and if you're wearing any panties at all they are so damn sheer, I'll bet they can be ripped off with hardly any effort."

Brennan gasped and his fingers tightened on her arm, just a fraction, but his voice was still low and somehow analytical. "Your hair looks soft and tousled, and don't tell me you don't know that it's going to make any man who sees you tonight, immediately think of fisting his hands in it."

"Stop."

But he couldn't. All he could do was inhale her scent and lose his mind.

"Let's not forget that you smell expensive and gorgeous and you look so fucking hot that all you're going to have to do tonight is stand there and pick." His voice had softened briefly, but now it went hard again. "And I know that's what you're going to do. You're going to walk into that nightclub tonight and assess who is most likely to satisfy your biological urges, who looks the most capable of getting you off, nice and fast and with no expectations. And once you figure it out, you're going to smile at him and let the bastard take you home."

Her throat constricted and she nearly wanted to cry because Brennan knew she had been considering doing exactly that. "You shouldn't judge," she whispered, looking so beautifully fragile that he felt instant remorse.

"Temperance …"

"You should leave," she suggested calmly and he paled at the near toneless words.

"Aw, hell, Bones, I'm sorry, I …"

"Why? Don't be." Her gaze was shuttered and he couldn't read her and it was panicking him. "You're right and I shouldn't have gotten so defensive about it." She tugged on her arm pointedly, but he didn't release her. "Let me go, Booth."

"I can't." He sounded tortured as he confessed, "I've tried and I can't."

Her calm composure shattered and she shuddered. "I can't be lonely again tonight," she choked out desperately. "You can judge me all you want, but I can't—"

"Shh," he soothed, releasing his grip and bringing his arms around her. "Shh, it's okay, I'm not going to judge."

"Yes, you are," she contradicted tearfully against his chest, melting into the warmth and strength of him; that was the one thing she had never been able to deny herself.

"No, Bones," he said sincerely, lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not judging, I simply hate it." With a sigh, Booth tipped her chin up, heart constricting at her tear-stained face. "And you know why and it has nothing to do with my beliefs or my religion, it has simply to do with you."

His thumb rubbed over her soft bottom lip and there was nothing but the cleanest honesty when he said, "I love you. I want you. We can both pretend I'm over you, but we both know it's a lie. We both know why my relationships don't work out and why I can't even stand the thought of somebody else touching you."

Suddenly, he released her, walking back and putting space between them. But the gesture was meaningless; he had put a lot more space between them than a few steps and had ended up right where he started.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Booth said, more to himself than her. "How much more time and space can I put between us?"

"Booth …" She inhaled deeply, gathering her courage when he turned to leave. "Don't let me go to this nightclub tonight."

He froze and turned slowly, eyes clashing with hers. "What?"

"Stay."

His eyes closed, an automatic defense against temptation. "I can't." God, why was she doing this to him? "You know I can't, Bones."

"You can't?" she echoed, sounding heart-crushingly fragile. "I thought you said … I … why not?"

"Why?" Booth shook his head in disbelief. _Had she not heard a word he just said?_ "Because no matter how much I love you, I can't let you use me."

In two steps, he was in front of her again, grabbing her bare shoulders desperately. "I hate, _fucking hate_, that you're going to turn to someone else, but I can't just give you what you need tonight and forget about it in the morning."

He told his body to release her, but his hands wouldn't let go. How could he just walk out the door, knowing it would be sending her straight into someone else's arms?

"Booth …" Her hands hovered, before settling on his chest. "I … I'm confused. I don't want to forget anything in the morning. I want you. I don't want any more time and space between us … I don't want to turn to someone else, tonight or any night. I want to turn to you … I don't know if I'm saying—"

"Stop," he interrupted, amazed that she was babbling. "Are you saying you don't want a one-night stand?"

"A one-night st—" Brennan's eyes went wide as her brain catalogued and recognized the phrase. "With _you_?" she gasped horrified. "You would never do it and I would never ask, why would you even think that?"

"I …" he paused, wincing. "Okay, I misconstrued slightly."

"You thought I …?" Brennan slapped his chest, none too gently. "Don't you think I know you better than that?"

Booth smiled as it suddenly dawned on him what she was saying. "Don't hit me," he murmured, hands streaking into her hair. "Just tell me. Are we really doing this? No more dancing, no more running?"

"Yes," she nodded softly. "If … if you still want—"

His mouth cut her off, landing down on hers full of hunger. Immediately, her arms wrapped around him and he moaned, hands fisting in her hair as he walked her backwards until they hit the nearest wall.

"Bed?" he gasped, kissing down her neck.

"No," Brennan pleaded, grasping his black FBI t-shirt and tugging up. "Here. Now. Please."

Booth stepped back to let her sweep off his shirt and get rid of his pants. Eyes blazing, he pinned his fully naked body against her fully clothed one against the wall.

"Was I right about the panties?" On the question, his hands hiked up her dress and boosted her up.

"Yes," she whispered, legs going around his hips as he fingered the tiny scrap of delicate lace.

"Mine," Booth growled, ripping them off with a tug and hardly any effort, just like he'd guessed he could. "You've always been mine."

"Oh god," Brennan whimpered, shuddering as he entered her smoothly. "Oh my god, Booth!"

"I know." He stroked out, then back in, forehead falling to her shoulder at the perfect feel of her, tight and exquisitely drenched, around him. "Holy hell, I know." His teeth caught on the slim strap over her shoulder and he lowered it, kissing the silky smooth skin.

Eyes closing in ecstasy, Booth cupped her hips, holding on firmly as he sheathed himself inside her, over and over again with increasing speed. Her arms wound tightly around him, her lips raining fervent kisses on the curve of one shoulder, before trailing to his neck. Her mouth opened as she went, letting him feel teeth and tongue and he groaned, not just in pleasure, but in stunned disbelief.

_She was in his arms. Her mouth was on his skin, her hands like little steel vises marking his back. She was moaning his name harshly, as if she needed him just as bad, as if she was as desperate for him as he was for her._

It was almost surreal. The pleasure, the _goddamn ecstasy_, simply drowned him. His fingers dug into her skin and he slammed her against the wall in a frenzy. The soft curves of her breasts spilled out over the tight bodice of the dress and he buried his face against the satiny skin, tongue flicking out to lick and taste.

Brennan's head thudded back against the wall, hands clawing at the warm, smooth skin rippling just for her. She couldn't stop calling out his name, the five letters she had uttered countless times before, reverberating through her apartment in one pleasured moan after another. Internal muscles spasmed and squeezed him from the inside as her body surrendered, but he didn't stop, he didn't even slow down. One orgasm merged seamlessly with the next and her hands moved up to grip his hair, holding him against her chest.

She wondered wildly if pleasure could actually kill, she wondered how she was surviving this, and insanely, she wondered how she could possibly want more. But as he shattered her over and over again, Brennan knew it could never be enough.

"Never …" she sobbed, tugging his head up and crashing her lips down on his, "…enough."

Her mouth swallowed his scream as he splintered apart. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, by all that was good and rational, Yes. She had been running from this, but _this_ was everything. Him, coming undone, in her arms was simply everything. His lips released hers to gasp in some much needed air and she pressed her face to his neck, breathing him in. His death grip on her hips loosened and both his arms wound around her waist, while his forehead dropped to her shoulder—the one whose strap he had tugged down with his teeth.

Flipping around so that his back was to the wall, Booth slid down to the floor, holding her in his lap. Brennan settled against his sculpted chest, resting one hand, palm-down, over his still galloping heart.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked hoarsely, running his hands carefully over the back of her shoulders where the wall had to have scraped at her delicate skin. "I … my god, Bones, I've never been so out of control."

"Good," she purred in smug satisfaction. "Let's keep it that way."

He stroked one hand over her disheveled curls, using the other to lower the second strap that was still in place over her shoulder. "I want to make love to you slowly," he whispered, placing a kiss on her now fully bare shoulder. "Strip you to the skin and kiss every single inch of you."

"Booth …" His name was a fluttering sigh as his lips lined angel-soft kisses across her clavicle, up her throat and back down again.

"Say yes," Booth whispered, twining her tousled locks around his fingers. "Say yes, Bones."

"Yes." Her head dropped back, supported by his hands and giving him full access to the line of her throat. "Yes."

"Mmm, so pretty." He nuzzled against her, pressing his smiling lips to her skin. "Oh, Bones, there's so much I …"

His words faded and Brennan frowned, both of them trying to place the sudden noise.

"Oh god," Brennan finally realized with a groan, forehead resting on his. "That's the doorbell, Booth. Angela's here."


	15. Obsession

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Word courtesy of **_choebs_**,**_ hoforteacher3_**, and **_DME82_**.

**OBSESSION**

* * *

"I don't expect you to understand. You don't know what it's like to want something-_someone_-so much that it becomes an obsession."

_Oh, but I do._

"So you loved her so much, you were driven to murder," Booth sneered. "Yeah, no, I don't expect anyone will understand."

"All I wanted was to make her happy," he said starkly.

"If you wanted to make her happy, you should have let her marry the man she loved." Booth observed the man across the table impassively. "Instead, you killed him. That's sick and twisted."

"I know!" Wild eyes looked into his, the once-handsome face ravaged by tears. "It is sick and twisted! I murdered someone … I don't even know … god, it was like I wasn't even myself."

Booth's stomach clenched as he looked at the man in front of him. According to his file, he was a decorated cop, but in this room, he was just one more person confessing to murder. Probably the quickest confession, Booth had ever gotten. Officer Hunter had not even tried to lie.

"I should have just left," he spoke almost to himself. "The moment I knew she would never be mine; I should have just gone as far away from her as possible."

"Why didn't you?"

The moment he asked the question, Booth knew he was letting the whole sick mess this man was spilling out get to him.

"Because I … I thought nothing could be worse than never seeing her again." His voice was haunted, the self-loathing pouring off him in sickening waves. "But there is; there's always worse and now …"

"Tell me what happened."

"When I got off duty, I went by her place. _Witness for the Prosecution_ is playing downtown," he smiled grimly. "It's her favorite movie. Ever since we were kids. I used to tease her about it."

"Let me guess," Booth said softly. "She wasn't home, but he was."

"He wasn't happy to see me."

Booth nodded. "Knew you were in love with her."

Officer Hunter swallowed. "He called me out, told me to stay away from his woman," he narrated hoarsely. "He said he was marrying her, that she was going to be his forever and I'd better deal with it." His hands fisted on the table and he inhaled a shaky breath. "I lost it. We went at it and I couldn't stop hitting him, couldn't stop bashing his head against the floor. I just couldn't stop … shit, oh god …"

"When you realized he was dead, you panicked …" It was stated as a fact and the other man nodded miserably.

"Yeah, but a-also I … I didn't want …"

"You didn't want her to come home and find him like that," Booth guessed softly. "That's why you dumped him in Rock Creek Park."

"I always thought … that no matter what, I could never regret loving her, but god—" his voice cracked "—oh god, this … this obsession it's wrong, it's destroyed everything."

Booth couldn't disagree; whatever he felt for this woman had destroyed three lives, including his own. With a weary sigh, he sent him to booking and headed for the men's restroom.

He loosened his tie and splashed some water on his face, looking grimly into the mirror.

_When a man can't have the woman that he loves, he gets a bit crazy_.

His own words haunted him, and Booth knew he was done.

_I can't do this anymore._

**-x-**

It took him nearly a week to work up the courage to tell her, but he couldn't postpone it anymore. He finally called his partner up and told her to meet him at the Founding Fathers.

"Booth, is something wrong?" Brennan asked the question, but she already knew the answer. He had barely touched his food; something was very wrong.

"Bones …" He took a deep breath, the words lodging painfully in his throat. "I want you to know that if you ever need me, all you have to do is call and I'll be there for you, okay?"

"What are you—?"

"I'm requesting a transfer," he answered quickly, forcing his gaze to hers. "Either Philly or New York." He chose those cities because it would allow him to still be close enough to his son and if Booth were honest, with her propensity for trouble, he didn't want to be so far away that he couldn't come back quickly, if necessary. After all, she had an alarming tendency for attracting serial killers.

"I'll be putting in the paperwork on Monday," he added quickly, needing to get through this as fast as possible. "But I needed to tell you first."

For one second, Brennan thought she might actually black out. She couldn't have heard him correctly. But the words could not be clearer; no colloquialisms, no slang, nothing to indicate maybe she simply hadn't understood correctly.

"Bones," Booth whispered, horrified at the way her entire face had lost color.

"You're leaving?" The question was a hoarse scrape across both their skins. "What? Why? I don't understand—"

"I have to." He hated himself for the confusion and hurt he could see swirling in those beautiful blue eyes. But if he didn't do this, he was afraid, he'd end up hating _her_ and destroying_ himself_.

"You're my partner." Brennan could feel the tears gathering and she struggled to hold them in, struggled to make sense of this. They had both been back from their respective sabbaticals for over six months now, doing what they did best. She had been gathering the courage for nearly a month to ask him if … oh, god, she was going to be sick. "I … what's happened, why are you doing this?"

"Bones, do I really need to say it?" He knew nearly any other woman would have understood, but she was looking at him with those guileless eyes that told him, she was absolutely clueless. "I can't do this with you anymore, I can't see you nearly every day and fucking pretend I don't …" He throttled back the words, knowing they would only hurt them both, and took a deep breath. "I need time away."

"You've had time away," Brennan responded, the words a little bit desperate and sounding almost like an accusation. "We both have, so I fail to—"

"I need the forever kind of time, Bones," he said bluntly, trying to keep his temper from lashing out. Why was she making this so difficult? "I know … I _know_ that I once told you we could still work together, but I was lying to us both."

"Booth…" She was looking at him with that devastated, little girl look that always hit him like a punch.

"I have to leave," he repeated, steeling himself against the impulse to give in to her. "I know it's my issue, but I _cannot _compartmentalize this anymore." She looked nearly traumatized and he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. She was shredding him to pieces without saying a word.

Standing up, he threw some bills on the table, covering both their untouched entrees and headed for the door. Once outside, he paced the sidewalk, stifling the overwhelming urge to punch something. It only took a few seconds for her to join him and he inhaled shakily, bracing his hands against the nearest wall.

She observed him silently and the silence was worse than all the accusations in the world. He understood her enough to know that she was having trouble processing. To her, this probably seemed out of nowhere. After all, he had spent the last six months acting as if everything was back to normal, but nothing could ever go back to normal again. And it was time to stop pretending otherwise.

"I closed a case last week," he began, still facing the wall. "I guess you could say it was straightforward, but nothing about murder is that simple. It wasn't premeditated, but three lives are still ruined because one man couldn't compartmentalize."

He gave her the details in the short, concise way she preferred and he had to smile at her answer.

"I'm not getting married, Booth," she pointed out with a frown. "And you're not a murderer, so what does that have to do with us?"

"That's not the point," Booth said patiently. "Look, I know I'm not going to murder your next boyfriend, but this … this _thing_ that I can't get rid of no matter where I am or who I am with, it's …it's …" he sighed heavily, fingers tensing on the wall. "I can't let you become my obsession, Bones."

"So that's it?" she demanded, the shock starting to wear off and beginning to be replaced rapidly by fury. "I lose my partner and my friend because you think I'm some kind of obsession. That doesn't even make any sense, Booth!"

"I don't think, I know," he spat, incensed by her dismissive attitude. "You know, I looked up the definition of obsession. I'm sure you can appreciate the squintiness." He turned to face her now, pissed beyond belief.

"Obsession," Booth recited, "an uncontrollable or persistent idea. A thought, image, or emotion that a person cannot help thinking about even though it creates significant distress or anxiety."

He recognized the mutinous expression on her face and he walked forward. "You don't get to argue with me about this." Before she could react, his hands encircled her wrists, jerking her forward until she was breathing his air. "You don't get to second-guess my feelings. I don't give a fuck if it doesn't make sense to you. I'm telling you, I can't control this anymore and I'm fucking tired of feeling out of control."

"And you think running away is the solution?"

Booth gasped in shock. She was too fuckin' unbelievable. She had run away from every goddamn thing between them and now she was angry he was doing the same. _How dare she?_

"I know what you're thinking." Her voice was calm, but he knew it was only a façade. "You're thinking I've run away plenty of times, so now it's your turn, right?"

_Damn her_. "Unlike you, I'm not running because I can't face this." He refused to deny her accusation; she was right, so the fuck what? "I'm running because I just can't let this eat me alive anymore."

Suddenly drained, he released her wrists, turning away from her. "Obsessions, they're unhealthy. They destroy you, Bones. I know that better than anyone. Maybe one day, I'll be able to look at you and not feel consumed by everything about you, but that day is not today and I know if I don't leave, that day will never get here."

Without turning around again, he walked to his car and drove home. Time to get roaring drunk and maybe drown out that little voice in his head telling him that he was taking the coward's way out.

**-x-**

Maybe one or two years ago she would have simply let him go, maybe she would have reminded herself that people left, that's what they were good at and he wasn't any different. But he was, she _knew_ he was and she couldn't just let him go. Not again. Not when this time it would be forever.

Weeks, months, even a year away from him was doable; a lifetime was unacceptable. Ever since they'd returned she'd been waiting patiently to show him he was everything she wanted. And as much as such vulnerability terrified her, losing him terrified her even more.

Her stomach was in painful knots as she drove to his apartment, but Brennan was determined. It was that determination that made her pound on the door over and over again, even though it was obvious he was ignoring her.

"I will break in if I have to," she finally threatened and Booth must have remembered that it was him who taught her to pick a lock because he wrenched open the door.

"Do you want breaking and entering to go along with your assault charge, Bones?" he snarled.

Brennan opened her mouth to remind him—for the thousandth time—that she was about to be set on fire, but she refused to lose her focus. Giving him a shove, she swept inside, heart pounding madly.

"I'm not letting you go."

His eyes narrowed at the words and something flashed in his eyes, but it was too quick for her to identify. And then, his face went carefully blank.

Booth simply leaned against the now closed door, face impassive when he told her, "You don't have a choice, Temperance."

The use of her first name panicked her; the calm, unemotional voice terrified her. "Booth, you can't do this," Brennan blurted out, she didn't know how to deal with him like this. It was like he had given up; on her, on them and it made her sick to her stomach.

"I can and I will." A muscle ticked in his jaw and she saw he wasn't as controlled as he appeared. "I have to," he added, a little more softly.

"Booth …" she swallowed painfully on his name and he pushed away from the door, drawn towards her like a magnet.

"It'll be okay," he whispered, unable to keep himself from reassuring her. "Please, don't make this harder. I have to do this."

"Because I'm some horrible obsession," she spat bitterly, giving him a little shove.

"Not horrible," Booth corrected and at her second shove, he banded an arm around her waist, keeping her pressed against him. Immediately, her arms encircled him, her body fitting so perfectly against his own, he knew it had been a mistake to touch her.

"Not horrible at all," he repeated hoarsely, his free hand winding in her hair. "Delicious, dangerous, addictive."

On the last word, his mouth slanted down on hers and he simply took. If this was going to be the last time he touched her, he was going to make it count. She moaned oh so sweetly into his mouth and a growl escaped from the back of his throat.

_This right here_, Booth thought deliriously as he walked her backwards, _is why I have to go_. He couldn't deny himself this anymore; he couldn't pretend he didn't need her to be his in every way that mattered.

The arm of the couch hit the back of her legs, stopping their progress. Lips still glued to his, Brennan tumbled backwards and he landed on top of her. His hands slid under her dress, touching soft, bare skin and his mouth blazed a trail of frenzied kisses all over her neck. She gasped, pushing up into him and sliding one leg over his waist. The motion twisted their bodies, unbalancing him and sending them sprawling over the edge of the couch and onto the floor.

One single curse word rend the air blue as the fall brought him back to his senses.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, holding his weight off her.

"Yes." Booth went to move and her hands snaked out, fisting his shirt. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Bones …" He looked down at her, heart constricting at the picture she made, all big blue eyes and kiss-ravaged lips. "Just … just go home, please." _Before I completely lose my sanity._

Brennan nearly laughed at the ridiculous request. A cold, unemotional Booth she didn't know how to fight, but the one who kissed her as if his life depended on it … well, that told her everything she needed to know.

"Booth, tell me something," she requested, voice a little breathless, but utterly rational. "This obsession concern of yours … what if it were to work both ways, then it wouldn't really matter, correct?"

"What?"

"If I accept your definition and apply my own feelings to it, then the logical conclusion is that _you _are _my_ obsession too."

"Bones," he sighed tiredly, "you're not playing fair. And you can't use logic to manipulate me into staying."

"Now who's second-guessing whose feelings?" she chastised softly. "The way I feel about you is uncontrollable and persistent too. And even though it has created significant distress and anxiety, I can't help it and I can't fight it either, not anymore."

His jaw clenched and her hand slid up to stroke the rigid angle. "If that's obsession, if feeling this way makes you my particular one, then I don't care." Her eyes blazed as she cupped his nape. "I don't fucking care, Booth."

His heart was pounding so harshly, Brennan could feel it against the grip she had on his shirt. Releasing her hold, she slipped her hand under the gray fabric, splaying her fingers over his heartbeat. The touch to his bare skin sent a shudder through him and his forehead dropped to hers in surrender.

"You're all I want." Her lips brushed angel-soft kisses over his with every heart-stopping word. "Just you. All the time. I can't stop thinking about it; I can't compartmentalize it away, and I don't want either one of us to run anymore."

She waited tensely for his reaction, her brain whirling in near panic and wondering if it was just too late, wondering if he was going to fight her, wondering if she'd lost the most important …

"You get one chance to reconsider," Booth warned, bracing his hands on the floor next to her shoulders and raising up a little to look her straight in the eye. "That chance is now. If you didn't mean it, if you're not sure, I'll get up and let you pretend the last twenty minutes never happened."

Sweet relief uncoiled through her, making her nearly giddy.

"I'm done pretending."

"I mean it, Bones. Last chance," he repeated darkly. "You don't get another because once I touch you, we're doing this and we're doing it for the next fifty years."

"It's impossible for you to ascertain whether our lifespan will extend for—"

"You'll be mine."

"That's completely barbaric, not to mention—"

"And if you run, I swear to god, I will hunt you down and remind you of that. And there won't be a third-world country far enough away for you to hide in."

"Are you stalling?"

He smiled dangerously, closing the distance between their lips in the span of one breath.

"Time's up."


	16. Prude

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

A/n: If the last one raised any concerns that these fighting one-shots would stop being smutty, weeelll, let me assuage your fears. This is M, people. **Very M**. Do not read at work, in the subway, or with your kid brother around, lol! But do let me know what you think, I know the temptation to be lazy is strong, I know I fight it daily, ha, but I triumph over my laziness and post, so fair is fair, right? :)

Thanks to **_Kari43_** for the word and the suggestion!

**PRUDE  


* * *

**

He turned off the lights and slipped into bed without saying a word and Brennan figured he was still annoyed. So she was surprised when he rolled over her under the bed sheets and tugged up her comfortable cotton nightgown.

"Booth?"

"Yes?" His hands divested her of her panties efficiently and Brennan spread her legs, making room for him.

"You're not mad anymore?"

He smiled in the dark, popping two fingers in his mouth and rubbing them over her sex. "Nope."

He was up to something, Brennan mused, but she wasn't sure what. She wished she could see his face and maybe get a better gauge of his mood, but it was too dark. It crossed her mind to reach over and turn on the lamp on her nightstand, but he worked two damp fingers slowly into her body, making her lose focus.

"Wh-What are you doing?" she asked, surprised when he placed a chaste kiss on her mouth, but didn't make any other move to touch her, other than his stroking fingers.

"Making sure you're ready for penetration." Satisfied with the wetness clinging to his fingers, he braced his hands on the bed and entered her smoothly. She moaned softly, her legs wrapping around him and Booth bit down on his bottom lip to keep from making any noise of his own. Her hands clasped over his t-shirt covered shoulders, gripping the fabric, her hips pumping up to meet his strokes. It was all very basic, in and out, in and out, but he could tell by her breathing that it still felt pretty damn good.

Smoothing her hands down his back, she gripped his butt, nails digging into skin and he couldn't help one tiny little grunt. She breathed his name, teeth catching on his bottom lip and Booth fisted the sheets, rocking harder into her. He was gonna prove a point, but damn if he wasn't going to make her come while he did so.

Her body seized, a gasp of release was muffled against his shoulder and he came right after, that delicious body of hers milking him dry. Collapsing next to her, he smoothed down the nightgown and drew an arm around her waist, pressing her back to his chest.

"Good night, Bones."

She mumbled a good night too and Booth pressed a kiss to her damp nape with a wicked smile.

_I wonder how long it's going to take her_.

**-x-**

One more night. That's all it took for her to catch on, she was just so damn smart.

Her hands trailed down his body, making a beeline for his cock, but he caught them easily, pressing them down against the mattress.

"I don't think I'm comfortable with that," Booth whispered in his best altar boy, blushing virgin voice and even in the darkness he could practically see her eyes narrow and the wheels turn in that brilliant mind.

For the second straight night, he turned off the lights and took her under the covers, using his fingers just until she was nice and wet. With one thrust he entered her and pounded inside her with minimal fuss. The most straightforward sex of his life.

Lights off, clothes on, missionary style. _But oh hell, baby yeah, I can still make you come. _

Brennan bit his shoulder hard through his sleep shirt, internal muscles squeezing him viciously. He choked back a desperate moan, but there was no way to hide the ragged breathing. Shit, but she was tight and hot and fuck if messing with her like this wasn't freaking turning him on.

Booth knew she had figured him out because the next night when he rolled over her in the dark, she was naked. No nightgown, no panties. Nothing but bare skin.

And then she threw down the gauntlet.

"I don't require manual stimulation," she informed him in that scientist voice, catching his wrist when his fingers trailed up her thighs. "I'm ready for penetration."

He hesitated just for a second, but no way was he letting her win this fight. Booth surged forward, head dropping back on a low groan. Hell, was she ready. Fucking soaking wet. And when she arched into him, her peaked nipples dragged over his chest, making him desperate to suck one into his mouth.

Two nights later, hammering inside her and trying not to scream her name, Booth was starting to think he had miscalculated. He didn't know what the hell she was doing to herself before he got into bed, but once he turned to her in the dark, she was ready for him, spreading her legs and panting oh so softly under him until she came. But he was starting to lose it, itching to touch her and kiss her everywhere, press his naked skin to hers. Almost as if reading his mind, he felt her hands slip under his T-shirt, gliding over his chest.

_Oh yeah_.

Without being aware, he moaned softly in satisfaction and she tugged on the worn fabric. "You ready to take this off?"

Even in the dark, Booth could practically see her smirk. _Oh, hell no_.

Affecting the most puritanical tone he could manage, considering he was rock hard and pumping rhythmically between her legs, he demurred in a soft whisper. "I'd rather not."

His head lowered, brushing a quick, fleeting touch to her mouth, lips closed and no tongue. It was the kind of kiss they'd been sharing for the past five days and Booth nearly trembled with the effort to hold himself back, to keep from opening his mouth and using his tongue to taste every inch of her.

Brennan had to give him credit; he was certainly being creative with this particular argument. And she knew the hands-off approach had to be killing him. He loved running his hands all over her when they made love and it certainly drove him crazy when she stroked and kissed him all over.

Purposefully, her hands sneaked under his shirt again and she scraped her nails lightly over his back. His next thrust was a little more forceful and his breathing kicked up a notch, but she knew he was making an effort to swallow any noises. Brennan knew it was completely on purpose, yet another way to drive her crazy in this private battle between them, ruthlessly taking advantage of the fact that she just fucking loved it when he vocalized. And he damn well knew it. That's why he was keeping it so quiet, depriving her of his moans, his groans of pleasure, his husky, desperate voice in her ear telling her how good it felt, how hot she made him, how close he was. Damn him.

This whole strange thing was frustrating and erotic at the same time and she wondered how long he could keep it up. How long could _she_?

When she raised her lips to his ear and whispered a breathy, "Fuck me," Brennan knew she was losing this argument. With relief, she felt his sharply inhaled breath as he moved harder inside her, almost like he couldn't help himself. But she couldn't help it either and his pounding strokes made her come silkily in the dark.

**-x-**

The next morning, Brennan woke up ready to escalate their battle. She was sprawled over his chest and he had one hand curled loosely over her bare bottom, reminding her that he hadn't really touched her body in days.

He was acting out his puritanical tendencies? Well, fine. _Just fine_.

With determination, she crawled down his body, tugging down the pajama pants he was so modestly wearing and wrapping her lips around his morning erection. Excitement fired within her as he groaned and shifted, instinctively bucking forward into her mouth.

It didn't take him long to wake up, it never did when she had her mouth on his cock.

"_Bones_," he groaned, morning husk, surprise, and arousal all making an appearance in his tone. "What the … _ohhhh fuuuck_!"

Booth tried to engage his brain, but he failed utterly. How could he think when that warm, wet mouth was sucking his dick into oblivion? _She was evil. Evil and brilliant, and oh, god, don't stop …_

Before he could verbalize the plea, she released him with a soft pop, moving up his body and sinking smoothly down his hardened length. Automatically, his hands went to her hips and he gasped as she braced her hands on his chest, lifting slightly and sinking down again with a loud moan.

"Oh, Booth, I'm sorry," she whispered suddenly, hand cupping his cheek tenderly. "I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?" Her eyes glinted in the filtering morning light and he knew he was in trouble. "I understand, the non-traditional sexual position, the time, the nudity …" She shook her head sadly. "Not very nice of me. Don't worry, I won't make it any worse, I'll just take care of this myself."

On the words, she lifted off him, laying back down on the bed. Booth was still in shock, trying to process the last few minutes when he felt her shift. He turned his head and watched as she extended a hand, searching for something on her nightstand drawer.

She wasn't, she couldn't … with dawning horror, he heard a soft buzzing noise and knew she most certainly could, and was, going to get herself off with her damn vibrator. Right there in bed. Next to him.

Without even glancing in his direction, she spread her legs and he whipped his head forward, unable to bear watching as she penetrated herself with her little toy. She had done it for him before and he knew it was the hottest thing ever to watch her get herself off with that thing, but only because after it he could use his entire body to show her that playing with him was so much better.

Next to him, she moaned, loud and deep and Booth tensed even further, his body practically vibrating with the need to launch himself at her and fuck her senseless. Maybe even fuck her with that vibrator first while he sucked hard on her pretty pink nipples.

_Jesus. Stop thinking._

But he couldn't, god, he couldn't even move from the bed. Instead of getting the hell out of there like any sane person, he tortured himself with the sexy, husky noises reverberating in the bedroom. His eyes closed and perspiration beaded his body as Booth forced himself not to react.

He knew he could stop this, just turn to her and take over right then and there. Settle between her legs, touch her everywhere, kiss her, bury himself so deep inside her like his body was fuckin' begging to … _No._ If he did, he lost this fight and Booth was determined to win. She liked to push and prod at this particular button often enough to make winning that much sweeter.

Making use of the same determination that had gotten him the most stubborn woman in the world; he gritted his teeth and endured. Booth could tell by her labored breathing and low, heavy moans she was oh so close and his body nearly came right along with hers when she let go, moaning his goddamn name.

_Oh baby, you're going to pay for this tonight_.

**-x-**

She only saw him briefly at lunch, when he dropped her off a sandwich on his way back from court, but Brennan knew he was plotting payback. He brushed a faint, faint kiss across her forehead on his way out, telling her to take a food break at some point and reminding her that his departmental meeting would likely run late, as always.

When he got in that night, she was propped up against the pillows, working on her laptop. But the minute she heard him, excitement thrummed a dull beat across her veins and Brennan closed the computer. There was no point in pretending that she was even remotely focused on her work.

Maybe she should feel a little bit guilty about what she had done to him that morning, but any remorse had gone out the window in the face of his stubbornness. Her vibrator induced orgasm had not been nearly as satisfying as the one he could provide and now she was feeling so edgy for the real thing, Booth was all too certain to have the upper hand when he slid into bed.

He walked straight to the bathroom and after a few minutes, Brennan heard the sound of the shower. She shifted under the bed sheet, turning off the small lamp by her night stand. In the spirit of caution, she had donned a nightgown and even underwear and now her fingers twisted restlessly on the satiny fabric.

Getting out of the shower, Booth used the light from the bathroom as he slipped on a soft, faded T-shirt and equally faded pajama pants. Once he flicked down the switch, he made his way to the bed in the dark.

"How was the meeting?"

"Longer than usual and even more boring," he answered, sliding under the covers and throwing an arm around her waist. "Boy, am I glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're home too."

The words were soft and Booth smiled, spooning around her and pressing one single kiss to her nape. He fingered the fabric under his hands innocently, surprised that she was wearing anything. It made him itch to get his hands under the nightgown and figure out if she was wearing panties.

She fidgeted slightly against him and his hand tightened on her stomach. Inhaling deeply of her clean, alluring scent, Booth shifted her under him, knees braced on the bed besides her hips. Slowly, he rolled the cool satin up her thighs, thumbs brushing over her skin. He felt the goosebumps break out as he touched her and his breath shuddered out in excitement.

He was going to go at her tonight until one of them broke, because he couldn't take this anymore. But he wanted delicious payback for this morning and he really wanted her to think about it carefully next time she felt inclined to comment on his puritanical tendencies.

Settling the nightgown carefully at her waist, he rubbed two fingers over her panty-covered core. Up and down, up and down, right over her cleft until he felt the moisture soak through the material. _Oh yes_. His body hardened at the evidence of her desire and he rubbed a little harder, before tugging down her panties, just to mid-thigh. Swallowing thickly, Booth positioned himself at her entrance, pushing inside her tight channel, one tortuously slow inch at a time.

Brennan whimpered, she couldn't help it. He felt huge and thick inside of her. The fact he had lowered her panties just to mid-thigh, kept her legs at the perfect width to make him feel impossibly snug as he entered her.

"Oh god," she whispered hoarsely, knees pressingly tightly at either side of him. He moved oh so slowly inside her and Brennan surged up, groaning as he slid back before teasing inside again.

Again and again and again. In and out. Slow, so slow. His hectic breathing told Brennan the pace was driving him crazy just as much as her, but he wouldn't speed up. Feeling desperate, she swept her hands under his damn shirt and raked her nails down his back in demand.

His grunt at her ear made Brennan smile and she raised her head, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. His hips moved forward again, agonizingly slow and she gave in, whispering, "Faster."

The husky word ran over his skin and he couldn't help closing his teeth delicately around her earlobe. "No."

Her sharp little nails protested his answer by digging harder into his skin and his own body rebelled, practically screaming for him to let loose. _Cut the crap and pound inside her the way you know you want to_.

"Booth." Her breathy voice interrupted his frenzied internal voice.

"Yeah?" he replied innocently.

"I need you to fuck me now."

"I thought I was, Bones." His voice lowered. "Are you saying I'm not doing it right?" He gave one sharp thrust and then stopped moving completely. "Maybe, I should let you take care of this yourself and let your vibrator take over."

She gasped in outrage, arms tightening around him. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Maybe," he continued raggedly, "I'm just too much of a prude to fuck you the way you want."

"Okay," Brennan panted, squirming under him in an attempt to get him moving again. "You've made your point."

"Have I?" On the question, his hand reached out, flicking one of the lamps next to the bed. "Did I just win this argument, Bones?"

"Yes, damn it!" Lashes fluttering as she adjusted to the sudden wash of light, Brennan looked up into his strained face. "Yes, alright? Now, let's have some make-up sex."

Booth laughed at the words, head dipping down to kiss her deeply. Her lips parted immediately and his tongue swept inside on a moan of pleasure, tasting her. His mouth placed wet, sucking kisses down her throat as he asked, "Tell me how you want it."

"Loud." The response was immediate as she arched under him. His hands fisted the side of her panties, tugging on the material and she added a couple more requests as the lace tore. "Hard. Rough."

Free of constraints, her legs spread wider and he sank deeper inside, tearing moans out of them both.

"Take this off," he commanded, sweeping the nightgown up, even before the words were completely out of his mouth. "I wanna see every inch of you."

Brennan raised her arms and the offending material was discarded over the side of the bed. "You too," she demanded, hands lowering to drag at his own clothing. "Naked. I want you naked."

And the second he was, her hands glided feverishly over him. He returned the favor, hands stroking up her torso until he was palming her bare breasts. Her back arched, pushing the aching mounds right into his hands and Booth lowered his head, placing frenzied kisses all over the right one. He avoided the nipple, tonguing and kissing the silky skin around it until she cried out his name. A moan caught in the back of his throat as his lips finally closed over the straining peak.

"_Yesss_." The word escaped Brennan's lips on a hissed breath and her hands moved down his back until she was cupping his perfect ass in her hands. She squeezed and he released her breast on a loud gasp, trailing kisses over to the neglected one and showering the same attention on it. With each kiss, his hips moved faster, slamming home in abandon and when his mouth closed over the painfully tight nipple, she came in shuddering waves.

Booth felt her inner walls contracting around him and he threw his head back, desperately trying to keep from exploding.

"No, no, no," he breathed raggedly, unwilling to let this end; feeling ravenous for more. "We're not done."

His body rioted as he pulled out of her, but then he was flipping her over and cupping her hips. Raising her a little, he slammed inside her again, scattering kisses up her spine. She gasped, pushing back into him and Booth moaned in satisfaction.

"Hell yes," he gritted out, biting the back of one shoulder before soothing the sting with his tongue. "I've been thinking of this all damn week. Touching and kissing, and god, even biting every delicious inch of you."

"Booth," she panted his name, bracing her knees and forearms on the mattress to better meet his thrusts. "Yes, oh yes, talk to me."

"You wanna hear all the dirty things I'm going to do to you?" His hands caressed up the sides of her body and then moved to her front, cupping the weight of her breasts. "How about all the ones I want you to do to me?"

"Don't stop."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not," Booth promised, pressing kisses all over her. "We're going to fuck each other senseless all night." Feeling completely out of control, he closed his teeth around her nape as her head dipped down, hair curtaining around her. Using one hand, he pushed the brown tresses to one side, fisting his fingers in it, while his other hand trailed down her stomach.

"Once we're done here, I'm gonna flip you over and put my mouth right here." His long fingers dipped between her thighs, making her buck beneath him. "I'm going to eat you out like there's no tomorrow and then I want your mouth on me."

The fingers in her hair tensed as he pulled her head back a little, his lips lowering to whisper darkly at her ear. "Bones, I want you to suck my dick until I'm hard for you again." She gasped, letting out a soft, keening little sound. He answered by fingering her clit just a little roughly and using his body to pound her deliriously. "Will you do that, baby? Will you suck and lick and use those sharp little teeth on me until I'm begging for you to finish me off with that delicious mouth of yours?"

"Yes_,_" she choked out. "_Oh fuck yes!_" An assent to both, his questions and the roiling orgasm hitting her like a storm.

With no more resistance left, Booth returned both hands to her hips, guiding her back with every pounding thrust forward. Her body was like heaven; warm and wet and glove-tight. And he simply could not last any longer, his groan of relief, loud and soul-deep.

He was pure dead weight as he collapsed on top of her. "I'll move in a sec," Booth promised in a panting breath, his cheek pressed between her shoulder blades.

"Huh-huh." Brennan barely heard him past the buzzing in her head, lips parted as she gasped in some much needed oxygen.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, Booth shifted. Keeping an arm around her waist, he rested on his side and pressed her pliable body back until her back was snug against his chest. His hand stroked up and down her stomach in a lazy caress and he couldn't stop pressing deep kisses over the slope of her shoulder and up to her neck.

Eyes closed, Booth luxuriated in the scent of her: Bones and sex. His mouth opened, teeth scraping gently over her neck and hitting a ticklish spot. She laughed and squirmed and he couldn't help doing it again.

"I love you, my little evil scientist," Booth murmured, absent-mindedly trailing his hand up to her breast.

"Oh, I'm the evil one?" Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, enjoying the way his thumb rubbed back and forth across her nipple.

"Damn right," he growled playfully. "You owe me for this morning."

"Oh, I think I've paid you back," she smirked, turning her head back a little as he kissed over her jaw line. "In full."

"You would think so." His tone was casual, but his smile wicked as he stopped playing with her breast to arrow his hand down. "But you know what, I'm not done collecting."

She gasped his name, caught off guard as his fingers dipped between her legs, sinking deep inside her.

"God, you're still so wet," he nearly moaned the words, playing slickly with her wetness.

Brennan's thighs squeezed together, her body struggling between exhaustion and the liquid pulls sparked by the delicious stimulation. "I … I can't … oh, that's …"

"What do you want? Would you rather I use my tongue?" She groaned and he smiled, burying his face at the curve of her neck and breathing the words against her skin. "Because I will. I will tongue-fuck your wet, hot pussy until you scream yourself hoarse."

The promise fell, unexpectedly raw and surprising, at her ear, prompting a slightly scandalized, "Booth!"

"What?" he whispered innocently, taunting her teasingly even as a blush stained his cheeks. "Don't be such a little prude, baby."

* * *

**-x-**

_p.s. So, what did we think? I know this was a little bit different type of fight, okay, a lot different, so sound off. **Q **is next, what the heck am I going to do with that! Oh, well, I'm sure your suggestions will spark some idea**.**_**  
**


	17. Qualified

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: I don't know how I feel about this. You be the judge. Thanks so much to everyone who reads and comments, I can't tell you how motivating it is to know these are being enjoyed :)

Not so much a fight, as a conflict and light on the smut, but hopefully still worth reading. Word of the day courtesy of **_quigely_** and _**DME82**_

**QUALIFIED

* * *

**

"Sweets, are we done here?" Booth didn't even bother to try and hide his impatience. "We're trying to catch a seven o'clock movie and I really hate to miss the previews."

"He does," Brennan agreed, nodding. "He gets cranky."

Sweets' eyebrows rose at the information, but he didn't comment. _What would be the point? _Catching a movie with your partner on a Friday night? Sure, everyone did that.

He nearly wanted to bang his head against the table in frustration. It was like, despite everything that had happened in the last sixteen months, they still hadn't learned anything. Still playing that game, still in that holding pattern. Well, fine, they could play all they wanted, but he still had a job to do.

"Agent Booth, it has come to my attention that you have turned down two promotions in the last six months."

"What?" Brennan's head whipped around towards her partner.

"Sweets …"

"In fact," he continued, disregarding Booth's warning tone. "Your superiors are concerned over the number of promotions you've turned down over the last five years." Looking through his notes, Sweets recited, "In 2007, you turned down the opportunity to head a major crimes unit. In 2009, the Special Agent in Charge of the Boston field office retired and the Bureau thought you were particularly well qualified to take over, but again you chose not to …"

"Sweets, that's enough."

"The Bureau is concerned, Agent Booth," Sweets warned. "They expect their agents to fulfill their potential and turning down promotions for which you are the most qualified candidate is detrimental to both your career and the FBI."

"I turned down those promotions because they would have required permanent relocations out of D.C." Booth said stiffly. "The one six months ago would have required an immediate move to Chicago, the one in 2007 to New York." His voice was deadly when he added, "And New York may be close, but I was not willing to permanently move my life to another state, all of which I explained …"

"What about the one Assistant Director Hacker offered you just last week?" Sweets cut in. "Right here in D.C. The only move required would be a few floors up."

"What the hell is this, Sweets?" Booth stood up abruptly, eyes dark and angry. "I had a conversation with Hacker, yeah, but that was it."

"Agent Booth, you know perfectly well that Assistant Director Hacker was gauging your interest in taking over his post next year."

"Andrew's leaving the FBI?" It was the first thing Brennan had said in quite a while and it brought both men out of their staring contest.

"It's not certain, but he's been offered a position with the White House and he believes Agent Booth would be an excellent candidate to replace him as Assistant Director in Charge of the D.C. office." Taking a deep breath, Sweets decided to take his life into his own hands. "But it seemed Agent Booth made it apparent before Hacker could even really make the offer that he wasn't all that interested. Can you guess why, Dr. Brennan?"

"Don't fucking go there, Sweets," Booth hissed, the dark flush high on his cheeks a testament to his restrained ire.

"Booth …" Seeing that her partner looked like he was ready to strangle their therapist, Brennan rose from the couch and placed a calming hand on his arm. "Did Andrew offer you his job?"

"Not in so many words, but yeah," Booth gritted out. "And I didn't say I wasn't interested, I simply told him I'd have to think about it."

"He's concerned you'll turn down the promotion once it's officially made," Sweets informed him.

"All I said was I had to talk to my partner before I could give him an answer," Booth insisted, turning stormy eyes to Brennan. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up."

"It would be the end of our partnership," she recognized softly.

"Yeah," he agreed, voice just as soft, his body turning towards her and effectively blocking Sweets out. "Honestly, I don't even know that I'm qualified to take over Hacker's job, anyway."

"Don't lie, Booth," Brennan chastised. "You can't turn this down because of me."

"Who says it'd be because of you?"

Sweets scoffed, the sound contrasting loudly with their soft voices and making Booth aware of their audience. "Sweets, I would like to talk to my partner alone."

"This is my office—"

"Get out, Sweets," Booth growled, his tone non-negotiable.

Booth and Brennan watched in silence as Sweets dropped his legal pad face down on the chair and walked out of the office. The minute the door closed behind him, she turned to her partner.

"Why did you never tell me about any of those promotions?" Her eyes fired up as she stepped closer. "And don't tell me you didn't think you were qualified because that'll just piss me off."

He almost smiled at the very un-Brennan like language, but quickly sobered up. This wasn't amusing in the least. He had been postponing this conversation with her because Booth knew he should take this promotion. The simple reality was that he couldn't be a field agent forever.

"I didn't tell you because I wasn't going to take them," he answered honestly. "I wasn't going to move to another state. Not when the two most important people in my life live here."

"But it's different now." Her voice lost the edge of anger as she murmured, "This one is here in D.C."

"Yeah …" Booth swallowed, fighting and losing the urge to get closer to her. "I should take it."

Brennan nodded, she knew he had to; he couldn't be her partner forever. "Our partnership is over."

His eyes darkened, one hand reaching up and sliding under her hair, cupping the back of her neck. "Our _professional_ partnership will change, that's true." Her breath shuddered out and his lips tilted closer and closer to her. "But nothing is over between us, Bones."

Just barely, his lips grazed her slightly parted ones. It was the briefest touch, but his body broke out in goosebumps, it was like it remembered the perfect feel of her in his arms.

Booth pulled back slightly to assess her reaction and her eyes were wide and bright on his. He wasn't sure what was going through her mind and he was a little bit terrified at the possibility of this going much the same way as the last time a meeting with Sweets had forced them to confront their relationship.

He swallowed, trying to read her and then she swayed, just the tiniest bit, in his direction. Okay, then. His nostrils flared and his fingers tightened on her nape, his free arm circling her waist and pressing her to him. His mouth descended on her again, open and full of demand. Without thought, her arms went around him, a gasp of surprise and need escaping into his mouth.

It was like a dam breaking, their mouths clashing together in a frenzy. There was desire and want and need. And relief, such sweet relief.

Brennan held him tighter, absorbing the taste of him in near desperation. She nipped his bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth and it sent Booth into overdrive. His arms tightened around her, his mouth burning hard, hot kisses along her jaw line and down her throat, before returning to her lips.

Suddenly, the weight of him was pressing her down on the couch and she moaned his name, burying her face against his throat. Her mouth opened over his skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Booth knew he was being marked and he wanted to mark her back. To make her his, to make it impossible for either of them to backtrack from this. His body was in agreement and a groan of ecstasy fell from his lips when her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing her tightly against him. He was desperate for her, but …

"Bones," he breathed raggedly, looking down at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. "The first time we make love _cannot_ be in Sweets' office."

She looked at him through dazed eyes. "W-what?" All her body seemed to comprehend was that he had stopped kissing her.

He smiled at her disorientation, pressing his lips softly against hers. His forehead rested on hers, their erratic breathing mixing together. "Let me take you home."

"All right," her lips curved on his, "but kiss me again first."

His mouth moved gently against hers, a soothing caress that made them both moan softly in satisfaction. Pulling back slightly, Booth looked down at his partner. No matter what, that's how he would always think of her.

"I don't care what my job description is next year; I still want to be your partner in everything, Bones."

"You are," she sighed softly, her hands cupping his face. "Always, Booth."

* * *

**-x-**

_p.s. Leave me your thoughts for **R** and hopefully I can give you a smutty fight! :)  
_


	18. Risk

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. But if I did...

A/N: So if I know the Bones fandom even a teeny bit, a good portion is just about ready to slit their throat ... or at the very least Hart Hanson's. I won't lie, tonight was painful, yes, but it has to be bad before it gets better, right? But as we all know, there's this thing called the future and the future, my friends, looks a little bit like this.

Word of the day courtesy of_** bumblebee587**_ and **_laffers18_**. Enjoy!

**RISK **

**

* * *

**

"Sweets is an idiot," he concluded, tipping back his beer.

"Ah, give him a break," Hodgins laughed, leaning back in his chair and watching the young psychologist walk out of the Founding Fathers. "He's in love."

"Yeah, idiot," Booth repeated mercilessly. "Doesn't he remember what happened the last time he asked her to marry him?"

"Bitter much?" Hodgins mused, giving Booth a pointed look. "You know, maybe you should take a page out of Sweets' book and—"

"Be very careful about what you say next, Hodgins," Booth warned, but the other man merely shrugged.

"So, he's marrying the woman he loves," Hodgins pointed out with an amused smiled. "And _he's_ the idiot?"

"Who's an idiot?"

Two pair of eyes turned to Brennan and Booth quickly answered, "No one."

"Sweets." Hodgins ignored the killer stare sent his way and smiled innocently. "I don't think he's an idiot, but Booth here does."

"Well, I wouldn't call him an idiot," Brennan defended, her gaze turning pensive. "He's actually quite intelligent, though I would agree that his intelligence is vastly misapplied in the field of psychology."

"That's not why, Dr. B," Hodgins corrected. "Booth thinks he's an idiot because Sweets just told us he's going to ask Daisy to marry him again."

"Well, they've been living together for months now." Brennan turned to her partner. "I'd imagine marriage would be the next logical step. I'm surprised you don't think so, Booth."

"I just think last time he did this, it didn't turn out that great." His answer was stiff, at best, his jaw suddenly tense around the words. "Why is he so willing to go right back to that place again?"

"Maybe because he loves her," Hodgins piped in, thinking to himself that Ange was going to be upset she'd missed such a priceless conversation.

"Yeah? And where did that get him last time?" Booth shrugged, eyes firmly on the label of his beer bottle. "I'm just saying maybe he should think about it carefully before taking that risk again."

Brennan frowned, a sudden tightness in her stomach. "What makes you think he hasn't?"

"Maybe he has," Booth shrugged again, torn between the twin urges of arguing his point and finishing this conversation. "But he's still risking a lot on a woman who left him holding an engagement ring last time around."

"Actually, Ms. Wick took the engagement ring with her," Brennan corrected automatically. "And why are you assuming his proposal is risky? From what I understand, Ms. Wick has made it clear she loves him. That she's not going to leave him again. Wouldn't he be risking more by foregoing the chance to be happy?"

"Since when are you such an advocate for marriage?" Booth shot back, annoyance settling like an itch between his shoulder blades.

"I'm not advocating marriage," Brennan defended herself, her voice turning crisp. "I'm merely pointing out that from Sweets' position, asking Ms. Wick to marry him might not be such a risk."

"Sure seems like a risk to me," he muttered stubbornly. "I bet you she breaks his heart all over again."

"You have no evidence to support that statement," she argued hotly, frustration rising within her in one violent wave.

"Oh yeah?" Booth set his beer down and raised glittering brown eyes to her. "How about the fact she'd told him she'd marry him and then decided she'd rather go to the other side of the world to investigate remains? That seems like pretty good evidence to me."

"Ms. Wick has conceded she made a mistake," Brennan retorted, chin tilting up defiantly. "She doesn't get a second chance? She should be punished forever? I guess you've never made any mistakes in your life."

She was agitated beyond belief, his intransigent attitude making something inside her lose all sense of control. Before he could formulate a response, her finger shot out and she poked his shoulder angrily. "If you weren't so goddamn stubborn you'd know I'm not going to break your heart again."

"Whoa," Hodgins gasped in shock, the chair he'd been tilting back on two legs settling back into its proper place with a resounding thud. He could not believe she had actually gone there and apparently neither could Booth, because he shot up from his own chair, facing his partner in disbelief.

They were attracting a few curious glances, but Brennan couldn't have cared less. Her finger drilled into him again in accusation, her voice a strange combination of red hot fury and icy control. "You told me loving someone was worth it, despite all the risks. And I believed you. _I believed you_. And now, you're so afraid of loving me, you won't take the risk. And I know part of that is my fault, but it's not fair that you made me love you and—"

Her nostrils flared, something close to horror crossing her features as the words escaped, unbidden. Without another word, Brennan simply turned around and fled, leaving behind two stunned men.

Hodgins recovered first. "Dude, I think this is the part where you run after her."

Booth looked down at the table, his hand reaching for his wallet like in a trance. Hodgins jumped up from his seat, blue eyes sparkling in excitement. "I got the beers. Go!"

The order shocked him out of his daze and jumped started his body. He ran out and got to the street just in time to see her get into a cab. He yelled her name, but the taxi was already pulling away from the curb. The sense of déjà vu was so horrendous that, for one crazy second, Booth thought about running after the damn cab. Reason reasserted itself and he uttered one foul word, rushing to his car.

He floored the accelerator, his mind whirling in a million directions and he wondered whether this was what going a little bit insane felt like. Her words slammed into him, like a repetitive one-two punch that didn't allow any time for recovery.

His wheels screeched on the pavement as he pulled into her building and Booth knew he was right behind her because he saw the taxi pulling out. His body was moving full speed ahead, even though his brain was all chaos.

A part of him was furious that she was doing this, calling him out so that he had no choice but to confront the very risk he'd been avoiding for so long. Her ability to destroy his barriers with some well-aimed accusations pissed him the hell off. Up until now, he'd been doing a damn good job of avoiding falling back into this risky, risky trap that could crush his heart all over again. At first, he did it by trying to have an actual relationship and when that failed, he found other ways to protect himself. Like keeping his emotional distance the best way he could. It wasn't easy; he was disgustingly abysmal at keeping her at a distance. One of the many reasons why having a relationship seemed almost like an exercise in futility. But he'd been trying to keep some kind of distance between them. For a while he did it to stave off the vague feeling of cheating that would hit him inexplicably. But when that was no longer an issue, he continued to do it, simply in sheer self-preservation.

But now … now what the hell kinda hope did he have of keeping things risk-free when she said things like that? He was going to strangle her.

"Bones!" She slipped inside the elevator, clearly ignoring him and he ran forward, unwilling to let her escape that easily.

Brennan took an automatic step back as he rushed inside, telling herself it was best to get this over with. "I apologize for my outburst. It was inappropriate."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Booth laughed, but there wasn't anything happy about the sound. "Because I am not amused, Bones."

"I'm sorry." Brennan swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I was angry."

"Angry?" His eyes narrowed like a laser beam on her face. "And does that also mean you were lying?"

Her eyes flickered to his and then to the light moving steadily over each elevator floor. He followed her gaze and then his hand shot out, slamming violently on the stop button and cutting off her escape route.

"Booth!"

She moved forward, but he blocked her way. "Don't even think about it." He didn't touch her, but he didn't need to because the way he was looking at her was enough to hold her in place. "Now answer my goddamn question."

"Your language leaves a lot to be desired, you know," she chastised, irritated by the way his anger only made him more attractive. No one had the right to look that gorgeous when pissed off and cursing.

"Bones …" His warning tone was one she recognized easily, it told her his patience was stretched to the limit. But hers was not exactly endless either and her own irritation was escalating by the minute, displacing the panic that had gripped her earlier.

"What do you want from me?

"I want the truth!" he hissed. "The truth that you adore so much, I want it right now!"

"I've told you the truth," she spat bitterly. "I've been telling you for months, but you've refused to listen." Her hands fisted angrily at her side. "And now I know why. I'm too much of a risk, right?"

"Damn right you are." She flinched and he took a step forward, invading her personal space. "You're the most dangerous risk. The type you want to keep taking, over and over again, regardless of the consequences."

Brennan inhaled, gathering her resolve. He wasn't the only one who needed to take a risk. "I want another chance. I want you to love me again."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but his voice was nearly toneless when he asked, "What makes you think I ever stopped?"

"I don't know!" she railed in frustration. Her eyes scrutinized his face, but she couldn't read him. It frustrated her, of all the times not to be able to know what he was thinking, this one had to be the worst one of all. "I don't know anything because you've been shutting me out!" That was the one thing she knew for sure.

He didn't deny her accusation, his voice turning soft, but deadly. "It's called self-preservation."

"Stop keeping me away." Her hands landed on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his T-shirt and tugging. "I didn't get it right before, but I'll get it right this time."

He merely looked at her, that muscle still working in his jaw, but his expression shuttered. With a frustrated noise, Brennan released him, but before she could take a step back, his hands shot out, gripping the lapels of her lightweight jacket.

His breath ghosted over her lips, he was that close and she inhaled shakily, looking up into coal black eyes. "I … god, Booth …" Her heart pounded in anxiety. "I … I …"

"Say it."

"I want you."

His eyes narrowed. "Try again, Bones."

Brennan swallowed. "I need you."

He jerked her forward just the tiniest bit. "You're getting warmer."

Risk. Risk. Risk. The word ran crazily in her mind, but his eyes, god, his eyes; they demanded honesty and she had to give it to him. "I love you." Blurting it out was the hardest part and relief at finally saying it out loud washed over her. "I love you, Booth. I am _in love_ with you," she enunciated precisely, just so there was no mistake. "I'll risk anything to make you happy."

He seemed frozen in place and she raised her hands to his face, fingertips stroking adoringly over his jaw. "Booth?"

"I want you," he repeated back to her. "I need you. I love you." The last three words brought him out of his trance and he blinked. His eyes widened as if his brain was just now processing everything and his arms circled her waist, crushing her to him. "I can't stop loving you. I've tried, oh god, I've tried and I can't—"

Her mouth swallowed the rest of his words, arms going around him desperately. She pushed him back until he hit something solid and then she devoured him. Booth held her tighter until she tugged up his shirt, forcing him to release her in order to discard the clearly-in-the-way fabric. He took the opportunity to get rid of her feminine jacket as well, his hands sweeping under her stretchy T-shirt to caress the bare expanse of her back. With a soft moan, she arched in his hands.

His bare chest left her dazed and she stroked every inch of skin she could reach. The hands roaming under her shirt reminded Brennan that she'd much rather feel him skin to skin and she yanked off the sporty tee, letting it join his on the floor. Booth gasped, her practical cotton bra the most erotic thing in the world.

"_Bones _…"

"Touch me." Helpless, his arms went around her, fingers instantly flicking the catch of her bra. Round, soft breasts spilled into his hands and she clutched his shoulders, head falling back. "_Oh. Yes_."

Her nipples were tight and begging to be sucked and it would have been easier to stop breathing than to stop himself from closing his mouth over them. She felt amazing under his lips and Booth raised glazed eyes when he realized she was lowering his jeans.

"Bones … we're … this … oh god," he shuddered when her hands closed over him, his face buried against her neck.

"Please," she whispered earnestly, pressing tiny kisses to his shoulder. "Please, don't stop. _Please_, _Booth_."

Her soft entreaty made him forget any of the practical considerations that should have been running through his mind; like protection, like location, like the fact that someone was likely going to report a broken elevator and send maintenance to investigate. Everything disappeared, except for her, all soft skin and desperate need in his arms.

Together, they struggled with the remainder of their clothing, until everything had been discarded in an untidy pile. Her naked body trembled as he encircled her waist, switching their positions so that her back was pressed against the wall. Booth lifted her gently and her arms and legs locked around him, blue eyes wide and open on his.

Slowly, so slowly, he entered her, the tension of holding himself back evident in every muscle. Brennan's eyes went heavy-lidded, lips parting slightly as his body fit perfectly inside her own. With a soft sigh, she brushed her lips against his, tongues touching gently, as gently as his body moved within her.

"I won't break your heart again," Brennan promised hoarsely, fingertips digging into his shoulders as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.

"You don't know that," Booth replied softly, pressing a kiss over her heart. "But I'm willing to take the risk."

"No." She shook her head, bringing one hand to cup his face. "Booth, I'm going to make you happy."

"I'll make you happy too," he vowed, surging into her body again. He kissed her throat and inhaled her scent blissfully. "For as long as you'll let me, Bones."

"As long as you want."

"You know how long I want."

She fell apart and he fell apart with her, holding her so tightly, it left the imprint of his fingers on her skin. Her cheek rested on his shoulder and Booth stroked one hand, up and down her back.

"You can have however long you want, Booth," she murmured against his skin. He kissed the top of her head, smiling into the soft strands of her hair. After months and months of trying to keep his heart out of her hands, she had her fingers closed around it firmly, once again.

He already knew if this went wrong, the consequences would be disastrous. But the heart of the matter was … she was worth every risk.

She was worth everything.

* * *

**-x-**

_**Talk to me. Have I soothed your wounded soul even a little bit? :) S is up next, so words are much appreciated!**_


	19. Safe

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: So ... confession time. I haven't watched the latest episode. Mainly because I haven't actually had time to sit down and watch, but also because I've been afraid after reading some comments. In any case, I started writing this weeks ago, thanks to _**MorWeb**_, _**BandBfan**_, and _**Angeldream05**_ for the word. So, pal _**Dispatch**_ encouraged me to finish this and post it, assuring me it is the correct timing for this fight, lol!

Enjoy and give me your thoughts!

**SAFE **

**

* * *

**

Cam intercepted him, speaking in her calm, no-nonsense voice. "She's okay."

"Where is she?"

"She's okay, Booth," Cam repeated, keeping herself firmly between her star employee and one pissed off FBI agent. "I suggest you calm yourself down before—"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down," Booth hissed, feeling on the verge of bodily picking up Cam and moving her out of his way. "Move, Cam."

"Not until you calm down," she said steadily, crossing her arms in front of her. "You look ready to strangle her."

"She fucking disobeyed a direct order and nearly got herself killed!" he yelled, the terror he'd been feeling since getting Cam's phone call, unabated in the least.

"You know, better than anyone, that Dr. Brennan doesn't do well with orders," Cam reminded him, her voice turning soft as she reassured him. "She has a number of cuts and bruises, but she's fine. A doctor is fixing her up right now."

"How did she even get out of the lab without a damn escort, Cam?"

"I'm still trying to figure it out," she sighed, running a weary hand over her face. "Booth, she knows you're going to be furious with her. That's why she called me, instead of you."

"Yeah and I'm pissed about that too," he growled, but his main concern right then was actually seeing she was fine with his own eyes. "Where is she?"

Cam relented, pointing him to the exam room where Brennan was getting her injuries treated. "Try not to lose your temper," she warned as he walked away from her.

He tried to take Cam's advice, he really did, but the moment he walked into the exam room and got a load of her, his terror-fueled anger resurfaced all over again. _A number of cuts and bruises, my ass_, he thought in renewed rage. She was freaking bruised and cut everywhere that he could see.

_Jesus Christ_.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Bones?" The words were out, pulsating with anger, before he could sensor them.

The doctor that was bandaging a cut on her arm, raised startled eyes to the doorway. "Who are you?"

"My partner."

"Her husband."

Brennan's calm answer contrasted with Booth's hissed one and the doctor glanced warily between the two of them.

"Booth …" she said his name warningly, but he wasn't in the mood for her usual circuitous route in explaining their relationship.

"I got news for you, Bones," he said in a deceptively even tone, strolling into the room. "You know that ceremony we had last month? You might remember that our family and friends were there … yeah, that was a wedding." He raised his hand in a gesture indicating the both of them. "_Our_ wedding, to be exact."

Brennan rolled her eyes. Even with her poor familiarity with sarcasm, his was impossible to miss. "All right, Booth …"

"Which means that I am your husband," Booth continued darkly, walking forward. "And by the way, that makes you my _wife_." He emphasized the last word with relish, at that particular moment uncaring of her objections to the term. "And when my _wife_ ends up in the hospital and calls her boss, instead of her husband, it fucking pisses me off."

Brennan almost winced at the words because she knew he had a point. "I should have called you," she admitted in an attempt to calm him down, but his eyes raked over her injuries and he was nowhere near pacified.

"No, what you should have done was stay in the goddamn lab like you were supposed to!" he growled and any intention she had of pacifying him went out the window.

"I don't take orders from you, Booth."

"In the field, you damn well do!" he shot back, his voice rising ominously. "When it comes to your safety, I damn well give the orders and you fucking obey them!"

"Um … sir …" The young doctor cleared his throat, unsure and slightly apprehensive. "Your wife is fine. She has some—"

"She is not fine!" Booth growled, shooting the doctor a killing look, before returning his gaze to his wife. "She's full of cuts and bruises and …" He sucked in a breath, his next words vibrating with anger and terror. "God, Bones, he could have fucking killed you."

"I had to go, Booth," Brennan defended, even though she knew her actions had been risky and she had been lucky to escape with only a few injuries. "He said someone else would take my place if I didn't show up. I couldn't take the chance. I couldn't just let someone die!"

"You should have called me."

"I knew you would try to stop me." At his orders, she had been a virtual prisoner in the lab since they had gotten the case and quickly figured out she had a_ fan_, willing to do anything to get her attention.

"Of course I would have stopped you!" For the last week, Booth had been terrified that something like this would happen, which is why he'd placed her under constant surveillance. Their very first case since coming back from their honeymoon and it had to be some psycho obsessed with getting his hands on her. "I would have done anything to keep you safe!"

"Someone could have died if I hadn't—"

"_I don't care_," he rasped harshly, surging forward and hovering his hands over her bruised features, desperate to cup her face but too afraid to hurt her. "Nothing, _nothing_ and no one matters more than you. _Absolutely nothing_."

Her throat locked at the dark finality of his words and her arms went around his frame.

The doctor watched the scene before him with wide eyes. He could hardly believe the sheer _passion_ that his patient seemed to be able to provoke in the man currently in her arms. Working in the ER, he had seen his fair share of worried spouses, but no one had ever exuded so much harsh desperation. Being near his wife seemed to calm him down some, but only …

"Can I take her home?"

The question intruded into his musings and he cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed. "Yes, of course." Taking out a prescription pad, he signed his name. "Once the pain meds wear off, she'll be in some discomfort. She can take two tablets …"

"I don't need any more pain med—"

"Shush," Booth ordered, extending a hand for the prescription and carefully folding the slip of paper. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded, fascinated despite himself. As he walked out of the room, he heard the man threaten to carry her out if she dared argue against using a wheelchair.

**-x-**

"You're still angry," Brennan murmured, leaning back against the pillows and watching him yank off his tie.

"No." With a sharp movement his white work shirt went the same way as his tie, leaving him naked from the waist up.

"Booth …" Her voice was all patience and it was obvious she had not believed his denial even a little bit.

"Yes," he bit out, whirling around to face her. "Furious. I'm goddamn furious!" His breath shuddered out as he looked at her, so tiny and bruised against the pillows. Angry, but helpless, he toed off his shoes and slipped into bed carefully. "And so fucking scared." Carefully, he raised a hand and traced her cut cheek. "You're right here and I can feel you and smell you, but I'm still so afraid. It's like my brain's still stuck, listening to the dispatcher sending units to his home, I recognized the address and … god, before I could even process it, Cam was calling me and telling me…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered contritely, placing a hand on his bare chest, shocked to feel his racing heartbeat. "I'm so sorry. I should have called you. After he was down, I was still full of adrenaline and I knew you would be so very angry and I was angry myself that you had been so dictatorial about security this week and I was fine, so I didn't … I didn't realize …" His arm went gently around her, bringing her close and she buried her face against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"But you would do the same damn thing if you had to do it over."

"I would still go," she admitted. "But I would have called you first; I would have told you what I was going to do so that you could come back me up." Her fingers curled into his skin as she pressed her lips to his shoulder. "I can admit I didn't stop to rationally consider my actions. I was so afraid he would hurt someone, I allowed emotion to cloud my judgment."

"God, baby …" He turned his head and buried his face in her hair. "God, I think I'd lose my mind if something happened to you."

"I need you too."

Her earnest words made him pull his head back to look at her. The cut on her lower lip made him want to pummel something. Oh-so-softly, he brushed a fingertip over her lip. "I could kill him for this alone."

Her eyes darkened. "Booth …"

"I'm supposed to keep you safe," he whispered hoarsely, winding his fingers gently in her hair. "You're supposed to let me."

"Because we're married?"

Despite everything, he chuckled at her questioning tone; she really was wondering whether that was some kind of marriage custom she had never heard of.

"Because I lose my damn sanity when something hurts you and I think you like me better when I'm sane."

"I like you all the time." Her body moved closer, snuggling into his warmth. A sigh escaped her lips, when his hand rubbed in soothing circles over her back. Booth dropped delicate kisses along her jaw line and over her shoulder and she sighed in appreciation. "That's nice."

"I can do this all night," he promised softly, scattering tender, butterfly kisses all over her. "I can do this for the rest of my life."

Brennan's eyes fluttered in pleasure, her arms winding around him. "The rest of your life …" she murmured lazily, "… that belongs to me."

Slowly, he kissed the corner of her mouth, his hands smoothing carefully over the lacy camisole she'd changed into the minute she walked through the door. "Yeah, yeah, it does."

Her hands stroked over his bare back, smooth, warm muscles rippling under her touch. "When I wouldn't play along with his delusions, he wanted to kill me, but there's no way I was going to die." His body shuddered and her arms tightened around him. "There's no way I wasn't coming home to you. There is no way I'm not spending the next forty years with you."

"Fifty," he mumbled against her skin and she smiled, knowing she had said the right thing. She didn't always, but in his arms, everything was oh so right.


	20. Truth

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: I've been a bad little fanfic writer and I want to thank everyone who's left comments and messages! It's true that the show has not been particularly inspiring lately, but honestly, real life is much more to blame than HH- though of course, he hasn't helped. I know there are some stories pending and I promise they've not been abandoned!

This word was suggested by many, so I hope you'all enjoy! And a Happy New Year to everyone! Here's hoping HH treats us better in the coming year!

**TRUTH **

**

* * *

**

It hit him unexpectedly. Not a slow realization, but an almost chilling awareness as he got up from the table and headed for her front door.

The next six years of his life stretched out before him and they looked so much like the last six that it made him slam the door he'd just opened and whirl around to face her.

"Booth?" She stopped short at the sudden action, surprised by the intense stare he turned on her. His eyes were coal black and her heart was suddenly drumming heavily.

"We are not going to spend another half a decade dancing around each other, are we, Bones?"

"W-what?" Eyes wide, Brennan wondered if she'd even heard him right. But his lips firmed and his eyes hardened and she suddenly knew that something about the after work routine they'd settled into the last few months had pushed him over the edge. "Booth, let's not do this now."

"Damn it, Bones, now it's the time to be doing this!" His sudden frustration steamed the air. "When the hell else?" A yank on his already loosened tie and he growled, "When you're about to leave for some third world country or how about when I'm dating someone?"

"That's not fair …"

"But it's true, isn't it?" he demanded, relentless. "We keep playing this game, second guessing everything …"

"That's not true …"

"Yeah, it is, Bones." His voice was low and serious. "We can't keep doing this. I'm tired of running and I don't want you to run anymore, either."

Her back went ramrod straight. "I'm not running anywhere, Booth."

"Oh, really?" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the paperwork they'd just completed, neatly stacked on a table and their scattered take-out containers. "Paperwork and take-out and I'll goddamn see you tomorrow. That's nothing but another type of running. Don't tell me it isn't."

"Booth …"

He raised a hand to stop her. "I know how much you love the truth, so don't you dare lie to me now."

Her eyes darkened, blue flames to match the fire in his. "Don't talk to me about lying." Her chin rose in defiance. "Maybe you should be the one admitting the truth."

He let out a laugh, utterly lacking in humor. "You want the truth, Bones? The truth is that you freaking want me and you're _still_ too damn afraid to admit it!"

Brennan gasped in outrage. "You're the one that's afraid of the truth, Booth!"

"I'm not afraid of anything," he growled.

"No?" she sneered and automatically stepped closer, her earlier caution vanishing amidst roiling emotions that seemed to surge forward from thin air. "You were so afraid of the truth, you had to move in with someone else and tell yourself you were happy."

Booth inhaled sharply. She was right, but he could not believe she had gone there. "And you pretended you were fine with it! For months, you fucking pretended you didn't care!"

"You pretended too," she shot back. "You pretended she could make you happy. But the truth is she couldn't, could she?"

No, she could not. It had taken him a while, but he finally had to face that bitter truth a few months ago.

"Tell me the truth," Brennan taunted recklessly. "You failed at moving on. You tried and you failed."

She was hitting below the belt. He hated failing, but he knew it was true. He had failed utterly. Not just in his relationship, but in his attempt to move on. Getting over her. Being happy without her. Fail, fail, fail.

"How about _you_ tell _me_ the truth," he taunted back, because no way was he letting her strip him of every single wall he'd erected without doing the same to her. "The truth is that you want me, you need me, you can't bring yourself to say it, but you damn well love me!"

Holy god, he hoped he was right. He hoped that he wasn't just completely losing his mind.

"Love is nothing but a chemical react—"

"Oh, you're such a fucking coward," he hissed, not even willing to let her finish that sentence. She would not pull this crap on him now. Booth swore he was seeing red as he walked forward and she retreated, until he was crowding her against a wall. "You want to keep hiding behind your science? Fine!" Anger and hurt and the sharp blade of desperation pushed him until he was nearly out of control. "That's what you always do, isn't it? Because no matter what, you're still a scared little girl inside—"

On a gasp, her hand connected with his cheek. He barely even blinked. Brennan's horrified gaze met his and automatically she raised her hand again, cupping her palm gently against the stinging red mark. "I'm so sorry."

His mind couldn't help going back to the first time she slapped him. "The first one was for free," he whispered softly, fingers shooting into her hair. "But for this one, I demand payment."

His mouth was on hers without warning, demanding everything as his payment. Lips, harsh and soft at the same time, slanted against hers in a frenzy. Helplessly, her arms went around him, eyes closing as the taste of him exploded inside her like the most addictive drug. It never seemed possible he could taste so good. Every time, she had tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, but with every subsequent kiss, she was confronted with the fact that he was simply her favorite flavor.

Her body melting against him was his permission and he ran his hands down her back until he was spanning her waist. When he picked her up, Brennan wrapped her legs around him, her hair, longer than it had been in months, forming a curtain around them as Booth carried her to the bedroom. He bumped into a few walls and one door, but by the time he had her on the bed, they were both nearly naked, a trail of clothes left behind in their wake.

Brennan dropped kisses on his chest, an answer to every glide of his lips on her skin. Arching her body into him, her head fell back and he lined her throat with kisses. Hard and soft. Hard and soft.

Crying out softly, she gripped his shoulders, seeking full, skin on skin contact. Her nails raked down his side, until she hooked his underwear and tugged down. "Yes," she whispered greedily when he was naked against her, the only barrier between them, one flimsy pair of panties. With a growl, Booth yanked them down and cupped her bare bottom in his hands. Gripping the sheets on either side of her, she writhed beneath him, bucking up to meet his forward thrust.

Embedded inside her to the hilt, Booth kept one hand on her bottom and braced the other one next to her shoulder on the bed. "Oh, god." It was one agonized groan.

"Don't … stop." One hand released the sheets to wind through his hair. "More."

Booth shuddered, clenching his jaw. His eyelids wanted to drop and his body wanted to go crazy on hers, but he forced himself to be perfectly still as he looked down at his partner. "This is my truth, Bones." Bracing both hands on the bed now, he hovered over her. "I want everything. I want you to take everything. No more hiding. For either of us."

She swallowed hard, knowing he was stripped naked before her, on every level. "If … If this goes wrong …"

"I swear to god, if you say yes, I'm never letting you go." His fingers curled, fisting the bed sheets under his hands, his body one tense line over her. "Just say yes."

The first _yes_ came out softly, barely audible. He leaned down a fraction and she repeated the word. "Yes." It was still soft, but without hesitation. The third one, he caught with his lips.

Like flipping a switch, he started moving and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He surged into her, again and again and Brennan matched his rhythm, sounds she wasn't even aware of making echoed around the room with every movement.

"More." The word escaped when he released her mouth to trail hard, wet kisses along her jaw and the side of her neck. "More, more, more." Her nails dug into his back and she chanted the word mindlessly. _More, more, more, more, more, more_. He'd said everything and she wanted everything.

Booth buried his face against her throat and curled his fingers around her hips in an almost bruising grip. There would be marks on her skin tomorrow, he was almost certain, but the nails raking down his back told him she was okay with that. It was probably barbaric, but the thought of her marking him drove him harder inside her. Harder, deeper, faster. It plain drove him crazy. And she seemed to be going crazy too, rising up to meet his pounding thrusts, muffling her moans against his shoulder, and biting down hard on the skin beneath her lips.

A rough moan tore from him when he felt her inner muscles convulsing around him, pulling him deeper and enticing him to fall into her orgasm. He kept pumping, trying to stretch it out, convinced nothing could feel better than her, so fucking drenched and tight and searing. But a few seconds later, it seemed that the one thing that could feel just as good as riding her body was coming inside it.

"Bones!" It could have been a shout or a hoarse whisper; he had no idea because nothing could get past the pleasure, it was the only thing his mind could process.

He was dead weight on top of her, but he couldn't even move. With an incoherent noise, Booth shifted, trying to move and let her breathe again, but her arms tightened and he gave up the fight. Eventually, his ragged breathing and pounding heartbeat started to calm down and other things began to register. Like the soft curves of her breasts pillowed against his cheek. The soft glide of her hands over the planes of his back. The cool glide of the air conditioning hitting his overheated skin.

Pressing a kiss to the curve of one breast, he marveled at the softness of her skin. Booth rubbed his lips against the satiny flesh in a lazy caress. She murmured something he didn't catch, too entranced with her perfect breast. Earlier, he had rained fast, desperate kisses to the upper slopes, but little else, too crazed as he plunged inside her. Now, he used his tongue to taste, rimming the circle of one areola before tonguing the nipple. It budded under his mouth and he sucked it softly, memorizing the taste of her.

"Mmm … Booth …" Lazily, her hand tunneled in his hair, her body shifting under his, smooth skin rubbing sensually against his rougher body. A soft, liquid warmth spread through her as he suckled her so delicately. When he released her and trailed kisses towards her neglected breast, Brennan tugged on his hair until he raised his head.

"I thought I could never have this and I tried to live with that," he murmured honestly, looking directly into her eyes. "But now that I know what you feel like in my arms …" His eyes blazed as he cupped her face. "I don't think I could live without this, Bones." Thumb rubbing her soft bottom lip, he asked hoarsely, "Tell me I don't have to."

"Do you want the truth?"

Booth hesitated for a second, wondering if he could live with her answer. A part of him wanted her to tell him what he needed so desperately to hear, regardless of its veracity. But he knew between them, it always had to be truth. From the beginning, it had always been the one thing they shared. His gambling addiction, her family conflicts, his past as a sniper, her fears and regrets. They'd always given each other the truth and now could be no different.

"Yes." It might devastate him, but … "The truth, Bones. Always."

"I thought being your partner would be enough and maybe, at one point, it would have been." One hand cupped the back of his neck in unspoken possession. "But now that I know what it's like when you're mine, I find myself unable to give it up."

* * *

**-x-**

**If you're still reading and have some U suggestions, drop them off! See you all in 2011! :)  
**


	21. Underwear

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: So calling this a fight might be taking some liberties with the word, but it was pointed out to me that considering the current season, it might be a good idea to have a fun, smutty, not angsty update for this. I aim to please :) Thanks to everyone who suggested this word-there were very many of you! Enjoy!

**UNDERWEAR**

**

* * *

**

His lips zeroed in on the spot at the base of her throat that drove her crazy and she moaned softly, head automatically tipping back. Sure hands skimmed down her body, molding her flesh before slipping under her skirt. A delicious shiver ran through her when his long fingers brushed her thighs, but something niggled at the back of her mind. Brennan fought the haze of lust trying to remember what it was.

Fingers skimmed along the edge of her panties and she panted. When he curled those fingers along the lacy material, she remembered. "Booth!" The warning was too late as he ripped the delicate fabric easily and plunged two digits through her slick flesh. Her back arched, eyes flashing in both pleasure and aggravation. "Damn it, not again."

"Fuck," he groaned apologetically, knowing she had a right to be annoyed at yet another ruined pair of panties. "I want you so damn much." Scattering kisses all over her collarbone, Booth picked her up and whirled away from the wall.

He headed for her bedroom and Brennan bit down harder than necessary on the curve of one shoulder, right through his T-shirt. The bite was an attempt to convey her displeasure even though her body was soft and pliant in his arms.

"The next time you do that, you're going to have to replace them." Yanking up his casual blue tee, she spread her hands across his chest. "And they're expensive," she warned in a voice that would have been stern had it not been just a bit breathless.

Booth murmured his acceptance as he opened her blouse, spreading open the material but failing to remove it from her body. Her breasts spilled out over a ridiculously provocative green lace bra and he got distracted from his task of undressing her.

"I mean it, Booth," she insisted, trying to keep her wits about her and put her foot down. Brennan dragged down his pants and hiked up her skirt. Her legs spread to accommodate his body even as she lectured, "You can't keep destroying my underwear. Do you know how many pairs you've gone through in the last three months?"

He didn't. He'd lost count. He couldn't seem to touch her without tearing something, usually her oh-so-delicate underwear. It had been a surprise to Booth that she liked ultra lacey lingerie. And it had been quite eye-opening for her that he couldn't keep from ripping it off. She liked him out of control, Brennan had to admit, but if she didn't put a stop to this, she was going to find herself constantly in need of new underwear.

"I'll replace them," Booth promised, voice hoarse and dazed as he flicked open the front clasp of her pretty bra and showered deep, wet kisses over the perfect curves.

"That pair was about 150 dollars."

Booth's head snapped up, releasing the nipple he'd been toying with and she let out a little sound of protest. "Are you freaking kidding me?" His eyes went wide in disbelief. "Shit, Bones, you spend over a hundred bucks in panties?"

"The amount may be somewhat exorbitant," she conceded, running her hands in a sensual caress across his back. "But sometimes, I just can't help the indulgence."

Booth smiled at the unusual admission. He would have never in a million years guessed that his rational, grounded partner would fall victim to such unadulterated feminine extravagance. But he'd been learning all kinds of new things about her over the last three months … like the soft, purring sound she made when he traced his fingers softly, up and down her lush sex.

"I wish you told me sooner how expensive they were." He'd ripped countless of her lacy little panties. Booth tried to do the math in his head and the estimate he came up with nearly made him wince. "A hundred and fifty bucks for underwear," he repeated, stunned. "That's just wrong, Bones."

"Well, now you know." Brennan attempted a stern tone, but he was hard and ready between her thighs and she was a lot more concerned with that at the moment. "Just try to exercise more self-control in the future."

"More self-control, huh?" He smiled knowingly as her body rubbed against his, seeking to end the conversation and get the show on the road. "I thought you liked it when I lost control."

Voice low and soft, he trailed one hand down her stomach, her parted bra and blouse revealing creamy flesh. His fingers skimmed over her taut belly before dipping between her thighs. Using two fingers, Booth rubbed her petal-soft folds slowly without any penetration. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she panted his name in unmistakable impatience. He was pretty fucking impatient himself, so he removed his fingers and entered her in one blunt thrust.

"Damn." She was so tight and hot, he almost came on the spot. "Please, tell me you're close because—"

"Yeah," she moaned, digging her nails so hard, half-moon circles formed on his skin. "Yes … there. Booth, right _there_."

He grunted, thrusting again at the angle that seemed to be driving her wild. Keeping his eyes open, Booth pounded hard inside her. The flush to her skin and the glaze to her eyes excited him and looking down at her, it hit him that while he had unbuttoned her blouse and unsnapped her bra, he'd never actually got them off. Ditto for her skirt, which was hiked around her hips. The only thing he'd managed to remove from her body was the panties he'd ripped. Any other time he might have felt guilty, but it was hard to feel anything other than pulse-pounding pleasure while he was fucking her silly.

**-x-**

She was late, which told Booth that she had likely lost track of time at work. He thought about teasing her, since she was usually anal about punctuality, but when he saw her walking towards him, all thoughts of teasing disappeared.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Brennan apologized, smiling when Booth got up automatically. His old school gentleman's etiquette alternatively puzzled and warmed her. "I lost track of time and then I had to go home and change …"

"Don't worry about it." His eyes raked down her body, pupils nearly dilating at the skin-tight, strappy black dress. _Oh_. He had a _very_ long-standing fetish involving her and a little black dress. Didn't matter how many times he saw her in one, it always left his throat feeling dry and his fingertips tingling. Always. "You look … damn, that dress is making my fingers itch."

She smiled innocently. "Itch to do what?"

Booth's eyes narrowed. She could affect innocence without even trying, just by virtue of those big blue eyes, but he wasn't fooled. "What the heck do you think?"

"You requested fancy and sexy attire," she quoted him. "I believe this qualifies."

"Sure does," he breathed appreciatively, leaning over to kiss her cheek before sitting down. "Thanks."

"Is this a special occasion?" Brennan asked, wondering if she had forgotten about some important date.

"Nah," Booth shrugged, handing her a glass of wine. "Just, you know, we haven't really had a real date in a while."

"What about Tuesday?"

"What?" he scoffed in dismissal. "No, Bones, that wasn't a date. That was take-out in your office and then sex at your place."

"Dinner and sex do not constitute a date?"

Booth rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know what I mean, Bones." He could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was giving him a hard time on purpose. "Plus, I missed you."

"You saw me Wednesday morning," Brennan pointed out.

"Yeah and today is Friday," he returned with a shake of his head. "You're hopeless. Not an ounce of romance in you."

Brennan laughed because she knew he was teasing. "I believe it was very romantic of me to wear this very provocative outfit for you."

"All right, Bones …" He raised an amused eyebrow. "After dinner, we'll go look up romance in the dictionary."

**-x-**

Once dinner was over, Brennan talked him into going to her place instead of his. Booth tried valiantly to put up a fight.

_But I don't have any clothes at your place. I came over last time; it's your turn today_. _You don't have any decent breakfast food._

"Booth, I have an early morning meeting with my agent," Brennan argued, giving him her best pretty please look. "And I do concede that it's my turn, but I don't want to have to rush in the morning. You know I hate to rush."

"Jeez, why are you even having a meeting on a Saturday?" he grumbled and then quickly added, "That was rhetorical, Bones."

"Look, we can do the next two nights at your place," she wheedled.

"All right," he gave in, taking the exit to her apartment. "But please, baby, _please_, I need something other than oatmeal for breakfast."

"I have other food besides …" Brennan tried to defend herself but at the dark look he threw her, she just nodded. "Okay, I'll get some bacon and some pancakes next time I go grocery shopping."

**-x-**

By the time they got to her apartment, Booth had forgotten all about his poor breakfast options. The only thing on his mind was running his hands all over her.

The minute the door closed behind them, he cupped her waist, nuzzling her neck. "You smell fantastic."

His hands glided over her bottom, pressing her into him. He had been thinking of little else but molding her curves with his hands all night long. As he did so, it occurred to Booth that he couldn't detect anything but the smooth material of her dress. The black fabric molded to every curve like a second skin and yet he couldn't feel even a hint of her underwear.

"You're naked under this dress, aren't you?" His head jerked up on the realization. "Shit, you've been naked all night."

"I have," Brennan agreed easily, grabbing his hand and leading him to her bedroom. "I believe this will simplify things considerably."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there is no underwear to get in your way."

"Are you serious?" His eyes narrowed. "This is your way of making sure I don't ruin anymore of your underwear?"

"Well, at least for tonight." Brennan gave him her back so he could unzip her.

"I told you I was going to be more careful," Booth reminded, lowering her zipper and letting the dress pool on the floor."

"You've said that before." Unspoken went the fact that he hadn't been very successful in his attempts.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew it could bankrupt you if I kept ripping them."

"That's ridiculous—"

"Yeah, Bones, I'm exaggerating to make my point," he retorted, feeling a little irritated with her lack of faith. "So your big plan is to walk around without panties every time we go out?"

"Not always." She shrugged casually. "Maybe just until you learn some self-control."

Booth couldn't tell whether she was serious or not, but now he was definitely feeling irked. "Hey, I have plenty of self-control." Her dubious look made him grit his teeth. "Look, I already told you, your ridiculously expensive panties are safe, all right."

"I'm naked here, Booth." She detected his annoyance and just barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes. "Do you really wish to engage in an argument about underwear now?"

Turning on his heel, Booth headed for the drawer he usually saw her grab underwear from. His eyes nearly crossed at the sea of pretty little panties and he grabbed one at random.

Brennan gasped in surprise when he scooped her up and dropped her unceremoniously on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm a little annoyed with you right now," he explained mildly, rolling a pair of deep red panties up her legs and straddling her. "And also fucking turned on, so this is going to be interesting."

She could only watch, fascinated, as he unbuttoned his crisp black shirt and dropped it over the side of the bed. Brennan gathered he was going to prove some point and said point required that she be wearing panties. Admittedly, it felt erotic to be under him, wearing nothing but the soft piece of lace, but she really had no idea where he was going with this. "What are you doing, Booth?"

"I'm going to touch you until you beg me to rip them off." His eyes glittered as he leaned forward and palmed her naked breasts. "And then, I will remove them carefully. Very, very carefully."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he smiled predatorily, thumbing her nipples until they were nice and stiff. "By the time they come off, they'll be soaked through, but they'll be intact."

The words alone excited her. And then he was licking her nipples, making her eyes close, blissfully. Brennan couldn't identify why the way he tongued her always electrified her, but whatever he did felt perfect. Every single time.

His lips closed around one stiff peak, sucking lightly but with a steely determination that aroused her unbearably. By the time he switched to the other one, she was fisting the sheets madly. She felt one hand skim down her bare stomach and her legs parted in anticipation. His fingers brushed her thighs and then he was cupping her through her underwear, rubbing her with two perfectly placed fingers.

"Booth," she moaned his name, simply a vocalization of the heat moving through her body. His response was to release her nipple and kiss a straight line down her body. His mouth had left her nipples wet and achy and she wanted to object at the sudden redirection, but couldn't form the words, not when she was desperate for him to reach his new destination.

When his teeth caught on the waistband of her panties, Brennan thought maybe he would forget his task and simply rip them off her in this new way. But there was no tearing sound, only his tongue tracing the lacy edge. Only his lips, pressing kisses on her core and his tongue tasting her through the very wet fabric plastered to her.

"You're so damn wet," he murmured in appreciation and even some surprise. "I can taste you so easily even through these panties."

Brennan was surprised herself at the effect his mouth-on-her-but-not-really-on-her was having. She had to admit, it was simply maddening, but in the best possible way. "You're driving me crazy."

He grinned wickedly at her confession, grabbing her hips and easily rolling her until she rested on her stomach. Brennan was momentarily startled, but then she was moaning into her pillow as his lips kissed her nape and then down her spine. Teeth scraped against her skin erotically, followed by his fingers tracing the edge of her panties as it curved around her bottom. It took her a moment to realize that he was pushing the material between her cheeks, practically turning the brief cut into a g-string and baring the curves of her ass. Her knees automatically pushed down into the mattress, tilting her bottom up, right into the press of his mouth. Now, she was_ really_ starting to feel it, that almost-painful throbbing between her legs that demanded he fill her up to the brim.

"Just take them off," she panted, maddened by the way he continued to toy with her; nipping, kissing, licking through and around the barrier of her underwear … arousing, yes, but not nearly substantial enough to be truly satisfying.

He shifted on the bed, moving away from her. Brennan moved to her back once more to see him removing the rest of his clothes, which consisted of his slacks and boxers. Judging by his sizable erection, he seemed to be nearly as aroused as she was and it made her assume that he was ready to stop playing.

That assumption was apparently wrong, because when her fingers hooked on the edge of her panties, ready to yank them down, he simply said, "No."

"Booth, come on, I think …oh, god, you feel good," she gasped as he moved his naked body over hers, pressing his hard-on right between her spread legs. "You're so hard. Everywhere." She ran her hands all over him in unadulterated enthusiasm, her legs locking around his hips like a vise.

"And you're so very soft," he growled in masculine satisfaction, rocking against the softest part of her. "Soft and wet," Booth whispered seductively at her ear. "Just how I like it." He palmed her hips, fingering that red lace, the one thing that was keeping him from burying his cock inside her to the hilt. "You know I'm desperate to get inside you, right?"

"Do it. God, just get inside me." Her nails raked across his back as additional incentive. "I don't even care if you rip them anymore," she breathed raggedly, hips bucking up to make contact with his erection again. "I really don't."

"I told you I wouldn't," he repeated stubbornly, dropping his head to work a nipple with his mouth even as he continued to grind against her.

"I don't care what you do to them," she nearly screamed. "Just do something before I kill you!"

Booth chuckled breathlessly. "I take that to mean, you want them off, right?" he couldn't help tease.

"_Yes_. Off, off, off," she chanted eagerly, her eyes wide and feverish in their excitement. It was the most adorable thing and he couldn't help but give in, his slight irritation long melted away under the heat of her touch and passionate response.

True to his word, he rolled those damned delicate panties off her carefully, making sure not to ruin them. But he did it quickly, tossing them away before slamming into her in one blissful thrust.

Her moan merged with his groan of pleasure and he set a fast pace, driving into her, again and again. Booth braced his hands on the bed, gaining leverage and she ran her hands over his chest, before holding on to his biceps. Brennan's back arched with each thrust, hips driving up to meet him. His breathing was ragged, soft grunts escaping his lips on every hard slide into her body, but he never lost that controlled, smooth rhythm until she shuddered and seized around him. Nails dug into his skin hard enough to mark, but he barely felt it as she clasped him tightly, her flesh hungry for his. With one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came, letting her still fluttering muscles drain him dry.

"Bones?"

Her eyes opened dazedly, her breathing still fast and heavy. "Yes?"

Booth raised his head, a smile hitting his lips at her tumbled hair and flushed cheeks. "Damn," he breathed with an almost wry shake of his head. "So fucking good."

"I concur." She gave him a slightly mischievous smile. "If I were to conduct a cost-benefit analysis, I'd say, well worth the cost of any ruined underwear."

"Hey, I didn't ruin anything!" Booth defended, just a tad indignant.

"I know," Brennan soothed, brushing her lips against his shoulder. "Your self-control was admirable."

Booth sent her a narrowed eyed look, trying to figure out if she was making fun of him. It was the twinkle in her eyes that gave her away and he had to smile at her teasing. His rational partner rarely teased and he loved when she relaxed enough to be playful. With a little mock growl, he buried his face against her neck, nipping lightly before rolling with her in his arms so that she was sprawled on top of him.

"When it comes to you, I've spent over half a decade engaged in a vicious battle for self-control," he pointed out, fingers brushing back her hair. "Those panties of yours have just been collateral damage in the war."

* * *

**-x-**

**p.s.** Okay, what do we want to see for** V**? I've noticed there seems to be quite a drop in fanfic readership lately, which is unsurprising, all things considered, but for those still reading, chime in with your words/thoughts for V!


	22. Violets

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: In preparation for what promises to be a fantastic episode tomorrow, here's some back-to-back updating! The fandom seems depressingly crushed, so I hope this makes you happy! :)

Thank you to _**ExcellentDriver**_ for the word. Also, much love to the fabulous _**Dispatch22705**_ for all her help. To say that she molded, and collaborated would be an understatement as she did all that and more! :)

**VIOLETS**

**

* * *

**

She was on a date.

Yet another date with some guy who kept sending her violets. Booth knew they'd already been on at least four dates, so why was the idiot still sending her the wrong flowers?

The first time he'd caught sight of the cheerful little bouquet after dropping her off in her office, he'd ignored the voice warning him to mind his own business and asked about the damn flowers. Brennan told him they were a thank you from some guy who'd taken her to dinner, apparently he was some big shot consultant hired by her publishers to streamline the business. And of course, he was a big fan of her books, so her editor had requested a dinner.

Booth remembered he'd nodded casually, but stress had tightened his stomach because something told him that guy wasn't going to be content with one dinner. A week later, he was pretty sure they had gone out again, because there were fresh violets on her desk. This time, Booth had not asked, but she followed his gaze and explained the guy was pushing hard for another dinner. He realized the new flowers were not because they'd been on a date, but because the idiot consultant wanted one.

Except, Booth realized, the idiot was him because he'd told her to go. He had wanted to show her that if she chose to go out with this guy, he'd be okay with it, but the moment the words left his mouth, he'd wanted to take them back. She had blinked those blue eyes and nodded slowly and for a moment Booth thought he saw something like defeat cross her face before it was quickly replaced by resignation. He had wanted so badly to tell her he hadn't meant it, but the words choked inside his throat.

And now all he could think about was that she was going out with some guy who gave her violets. That was wrong. She didn't even like violets. Daffodils, daisies. End of story.

From his position on the couch, Booth stared blindly at his ceiling. The TV droned on, but he had long ago stopped paying attention to the sports report. His mind whirled, anxiety hitting him in waves.

_Why in the hell had he pretended he didn't care? _

What a joke. Of course, he fucking cared. Always had, always would. Even when he tried so desperately not to, he'd never been able to extinguish that part of him, it was like this little Bones blinking light that flickered but refused to go out.

It was that part that had wanted to stop the car that rainy night and promise her whatever she wanted. It was trying to bury that little light, once and for all, that led to a foolish marriage proposal to a woman he damn well knew didn't want to get married. Booth winced, just thinking about it. He believed in marriage for all the right reasons, yet he proposed for all the wrong ones.

With a tired sigh, he flicked off his TV and headed for his bedroom. Booth tried to shut off his mind and get some sleep, but he couldn't help wondering how many more dates before things got really serious.

When he finally fell asleep, the most sickening dream assaulted him.

_Bones. Beautiful and radiant, walking down the aisle. A gauzy veil trailed behind her and a bouquet of violets rested in her hands. _

**-x-**

Brennan saw her partner check his watch for the third time and she grabbed the papers from his hand. "Booth, you can go."

"What?" Booth snapped his attention back to her and tried to reclaim the papers now in her grasp. "No, Bones. Gotta finish this paperwork."

"I can finish it," Brennan replied, keeping the documents away from him. "I know you have Parker tonight and the earlier you pick him up, the more time you get to spend with him."

"We're going to a baseball game," he smiled excitedly. "But the game won't start till seven, I still have time to finish—"

"Booth," she interrupted on a laugh. "It's fine. Just go. I promise you, I can finish this."

Booth hesitated, on the one hand loath to leave her to finish the paperwork by herself, but on the other, knowing days with his son during the week were rare. "Are you sure?"

"What are partners for?" Immediately, she tried to explain. "That was a rhetorical question, of course, since …"

"I got it, Bones," he laughed affectionately. "Thanks so much. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"It's not a problem, Booth." Her gaze was solemn. "I know you would do the same for me. Say hi to Parker."

"Will do." He grabbed his jacket and his keys, gaze lingering on her while she turned back to the paperwork. She really was the best.

His heart raced and Booth simply wanted to cup her face in his hands and just kiss the life out of her. Before he was tempted to do something stupid, he walked out.

**-x-**

Brennan was getting ready to leave her office for the night when the flowers arrived.

_Daffodils_.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Not literally, of course, but figuratively, she was certain that was absolutely the correct phrase. Because she knew it couldn't possibly be the man she'd been causally seeing lately who'd sent them, he didn't even know she liked them.

After signing for them, she stared at the yellow blooms, almost afraid to read the tiny card perched inside. Chastising herself for the irrationality, Brennan snatched the card. Only three little words.

_Thank you, Bones._

Her eyes closed, fingers convulsing on the little square card. Why was he doing this? She felt angry and dejected at the same time. The combination confused her and that stoked her anger even further because she hated being confused. Objectively, she knew he was thanking her for finishing the paperwork the night before. But doing so had been very much a partner thing, sending her favorite flowers was most certainly not. At least, Brennan didn't think so.

Her favorite flowers. The flowers he knew she loved. There seemed something almost subtlety intimate about that and she hated subtle. She hated hidden meanings and guessing and the irrational need to scream she was feeling right at the moment.

On an impulse she tried to check but couldn't, Brennan grabbed the flowers and drove straight to her partner's apartment. She felt a little bit crazed as she knocked on his door, flowers clutched in her hands.

Booth opened the door almost immediately and his lips parted in surprise. But before he could utter a sound, she shoved the flowers against his chest.

"What are these?"

Opening the door, Booth took a step back, noting that it wasn't until he took another retreating step that she actually came into his apartment. "Daffodils."

Normally, she'd appreciate the obvious response, but now, Brennan wasn't in the mood for obvious. She wanted _meaning_. She wanted to _understand_. She wanted the certainty of knowing where she stood, something that had simply been missing for months.

"Why?" Her face was a study in frustrated confusion. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to alleviate the sudden tightness. "I wanted to thank you for yesterday. It's what partners—"

"No!" Her voice rose, startling him. "Do _not_ say it's what partners do because it's not! Partners share drinks and catch bad guys and do paperwork._ You_ told me that. They do not send flowers. You're breaking the rules." Her eyes blazed now. "You're breaking the rules and I don't appreciate it."

"They're just daffodils, Bones," he defended. She was making him feel guilty and defensive at the same time because Booth knew she was right. But hell, he'd wanted to thank her, to show her he appreciated her thoughtfulness and yes, damn it, to give her flowers she actually liked. "Would you have rather gotten violets?"

The words were out before he could stop them. Brennan's eyes went wide and Booth knew she realized he was taking a shot at her date. For just a moment, he thought of apologizing, telling her it was none of his business and assuring her it would never happen again. No more personal comments and no more flowers.

But then her chin tilted up defiantly. "Maybe I would have."

And all his good intentions seemed to crash and burn. Fuck that, she couldn't just stand there and lie to him. And pretend he didn't know her; pretend someone else could possibly have a chance of understanding her the way he did. His little Bones blinking light went off like a damn solar flare.

"That's a lie," he scoffed. "You don't even like violets."

"Yes, I do," Brennan hissed stubbornly.

"No, you don't." Booth was dead serious now, his eyes and his voice brooking no argument. "Daisies, daffodils, Jupiter, pigs, fries with no salt and too much ketchup, dolphins, red wine, nutmeg in your cooking, god-awful rap music, two sugars in your coffee, early-morning jogs and late night swims, rainy afternoons, and perfectly preserved ancient remains." He could have kept going, but instead he stopped and took a step forward, his breathing agitated, his eyes practically burning. "Those all make the list, Temperance, but violets do not."

Her fingers went lax, the flowers crashing to the floor and her lower lip began to tremble without permission. Whether it was the sudden use of her name or simply the list of all the things she loved, Brennan suddenly wanted to sob and she wanted to hate him for making her feel so vulnerable. "I could hate you for this."

His face paled at her trembling lips and soft, soft words. Because he had to touch her, his arms went around her, drawing her against his body. "I'm sorry." She was stiff but unstruggling in his arms and he buried his hands in her hair, tilting her face up. "I'm so sorry. Every day I try to fight this battle. Telling myself knowing you doesn't mean loving you. But no matter how hard I fight, I always lose. Always." He made a small choking sound, and she saw a hint of fear in his eyes. "What am I supposed to do with that, Bones?"

She understood the fear because she completely understood the idea of not being able to escape her feelings about him. "Why can't we ever just be partners? Why can't we figure this out?" Her eyes fluttered shut when his hands moved to rest on her arms. Such large and warm hands on her bare skin. "How can we stop this?"

"I don't know," he rasped out. "But I … I don't think I want to stop anything." He swallowed and his fingers tightened a fraction on her arms. "I don't think I can."

"You have to," she whispered, voice raw. "You need to."

"No. I need you." His forehead leaned forward, nearly resting against hers, his voice suddenly so fierce. "And I just can't stop it because as long as you exist there's no way on earth that I'm not going to want you."

"Booth …"

"I can't do in-between with you anymore," he confessed hoarsely. "It's killing me to pretend having just one part of you is enough. Being just your partner is not enough. It never has been." His face was tortured when he whispered, "This thing between us … we have to choose. All or nothing, Bones. We have to make a decision and stick with it because it's going to destroy us—"

"It can't be nothing," Brennan breathed, fingers fisting his shirt in anxiety. "It can't be nothing. I can't do that."

He exhaled shakily, lips hovering over hers. "I guess it's everything, then."

On the words, Booth claimed her mouth, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. The kiss was sweet, at first, almost tentative. They had kissed before, of course, but this was nothing like the heated kiss under the rain or the desperate one outside the Hoover. Not even like the minty-fresh and not-quite-innocent one under the mistletoe.

Her lips parted under his in discovery and acceptance. He kissed her back almost with wonder. Brennan closed her arms tightly about his neck and he groaned, deepening the kiss just a fraction. But that was enough to send them both into a flurry of activity.

They stumbled through his apartment, hitting walls and counters. Booth's collection of hockey sticks clattered to the floor, but he picked her up and side-stepped the mess. His shirt was discarded in the living room, along with Brennan's wide belt. Her dress slipped easily up her arms and the print fabric ended up somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom. By the time they crossed that bedroom door, they were both breathing heavy in nothing but their underwear.

"Wait," Booth panted, forehead dropping against the closed bedroom door as he braced her against it, even though her legs were still wrapped around his waist. "Bones …"

"I thought you said everything." Her voice was soft and he reared back to look at her, eyes dilated, expression almost stunned. "I want you."

She cupped his nape with one hand, the other brushing softly against his lips. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he kissed her fingers. "I don't want you to regret this tomorrow."

"Are you going to regret this tomorrow?"

Booth gave her a _get serious_ look. "No way in hell."

"I concur," she replied, her hands running hungrily over his bare shoulders. "I want everything too."

It took only a heartbeat for her words to sink in and then he was smiling. "Deal." He ran his hands all over her, cupping her through the thin bra she was still wearing. "Everything."

Brennan moaned her agreement, lining frenzied little bites over the curve of one shoulder. Booth groaned, returning her enthusiasm by flicking off her bra and panties as quickly as possible. She returned the favor and when his naked skin was pressed all against hers, they both gasped, looking at each other with glassy eyes.

"Ohhh," Brennan whispered blissfully, head thrashing back against the door when he stroked all the way inside.

Closing his hands around the back of her thighs to keep her in place, Booth slid them down the door and to the floor. Hazily, he realized it was crazy to be on the floor when the bed was only a few feet away, but she was running her tongue in some kinda pattern over his collarbone and his brain was clearly shutting down.

"God, you're soft," he rumbled, clasping her perfectly rounded bottom in his hands and sucking one absolutely delicious nipple into his mouth. "Bones, I could eat you up in one big greedy bite." Brennan let out a noise that had him leaning back to look at her face. "Was that a giggle?"

She laughed again and Booth stared, mesmerized. "That was amusing, Booth. Though, of course, completely impossible."

"Laughing at me when I'm making love to you," he mock growled, nuzzling the side of her neck. "Not nice. Not nice at … oh, but that is." His hips jerked, the scrape of her fingernails over his chest throwing off his rhythm. "Do that again."

Brennan kissed his chest softly, soothing the scrape of her nails, before swirling her tongue over one dark, flat nipple. Booth panted and fisted one hand in her hair, tilting her face up and slanting his mouth over hers. He couldn't get enough of her; she tasted sweet and squinty, just like he remembered. Lord, but she tasted like everything he had ever wanted. And she felt even better.

He moved slow and easy inside of her, letting her breathy moans and soft gasps guide him. Her hands moved over his back, fingers clenching and unclenching on his skin in wordless encouragement. When her teeth dug into the spot where shoulder met neck, he somehow knew it was a request for more. Bracing a hand on the floor, he pumped harder and trailed the other one over her side until he was cupping her ass. His fingers dug into her soft skin, grinding her against him on every thrust. The added stimulation drove her wild and she clenched him like a vise, her back arching off the floor as she came apart in his arms.

"Oh yeah," he whispered hoarsely, entranced by her abandon. After only a few more thrusts, he was coming undone too, collapsing heavily on top of her warm, pliant body.

Brennan's hands stroked him, her voice concerned as she remembered. "Your back is going to hurt tomorrow."

"I know," Booth laughed a little. "And the bed was right there, but the floor was right here and you're irresistible."

Brennan smiled shyly. "You can add sex with you on the floor to the list."

It took Booth a second, but then he was laughing out loud, rolling with her in his arms and kissing her smiling lips. He was looking forward to all the intimate things he would now get to learn about her and add to his list.

* * *

**-x-**

_p.s. There was so much positivity over the previous fluffy fight that I hesitated to bring too much angst, but I figured angst with a happy ending never hurt anyone, lol! Only 4 more letters to go and **W** is up next, so holla at me with some words/thoughts!_


	23. Witness

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. If I did, there'd be a new episode every week.

A/n: Thanks to _**morebones**_ for the word. I was tempted to go with _wedding_ but couldn't think of anything that wasn't awful and predictable so I gave it up! Enjoy!

**WITNESS**

* * *

Booth whistled as the doors opened and he gave a polite nod to the two men already occupying the elevator.

" … I can't believe you got an eyewitness who saw it all," one breathed appreciatively. "Guess you brought some of that Vegas luck with you when you transferred here, huh?"

"It was sheer random luck," the other man shrugged modestly, though as the relatively new kid on the block he was happy to impress his partner. Nothing like being _this_ close to putting a hit man away to garner fame and admiration from your new co-workers. "She's lucky Pavano didn't see her or she might not be alive to talk to us right now."

"So she's cooperating?"

"Oh yeah," he breathed. "Wait till you get a load of her. Beautiful as hell, can barely understand some of the stuff she says."

"She doesn't speak English?"

"No, she does," he laughed a little, mostly at himself. "But she uses all these big fancy words, she's some kind of genius scientist …"

Booth's spine went ramrod straight at the words, alarm bells going off in his head. The elevator arrived at his floor, but instead of getting out, he turned to the two men. "What's her name?"

The two agents' expressions immediately went stoic, suspicious looks were cast his way and Booth pulled out his badge. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Your witness's name," he repeated, as calmly as possible. "What is it?"

"It's not your case, Booth," was the immediate reply and he wasn't surprised because cops were notoriously territorial over their cases.

"No," Booth agreed mildly. "But I'm pretty sure it's my partner. Dr. Temperance Brennan." The moment he said her name, Booth saw one of the agent's face register surprise and recognition. "Goddamn it!" he cursed, the conversation he'd barely been paying attention to, suddenly scrolling through his mind. "I want to see her right now."

**-x-**

Brennan raised her gaze, expecting to see the agent who had taken her statement and instead seeing her partner.

"Booth."

"You witness a freaking hit and you don't think to call me!"

Her very irate partner.

"Agent Booth, please calm down." A man Brennan didn't recognize entered the room. "Dr. Brennan, I'm Agent Thompson. You've already met my partner, Agent Santos."

She gave a distracted nod, attention focused on the only federal agent in the room who seemed ready to throttle her. "I wasn't exactly in a position to contact you," Brennan explained patiently. "Agent Santos was on scene almost immediately and then he brought me here …"

"We've been monitoring Pavano for weeks," Santos explained. "I was on surveillance, but too far away to see anything. We had ears on him, but our informant was shot before I could even get out of the van. Dr. Brennan was close enough and saw it go down."

"Why the hell were you even running in the damn park at five in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep."

The words were soft and nearly toneless, but they effectively dulled the sharpest edge of his anger. She was used to sleeping with him, he realized with a warm buzz in his stomach. It had been weeks, maybe longer, since they'd slept in separate beds. During the week, he went to her place and on the weekend she stayed with him. But last night he had left the office late and exhausted and he'd stopped by his apartment to get some fresh clothes and ended up falling asleep on his own couch. He woken up groggily around midnight and stumbled to his bed.

"Shit, Bones," he breathed, taking an automatic step towards her. "This guy is bad news. You could have been in serious trouble today."

"I've been in serious trouble many times before, Booth," she replied quite seriously. "I'm quite adept at dealing with dangerous situations."

"Gotta say, I expected the doc here to be hysterical or something," Agent Santos piped in. "But she was cool as a cucumber. Gave me a very calm, very detailed statement right on scene."

Brennan gave a pleased smile at the description of her behavior and Agent Santos threw her an idiotic grin that made Booth roll his eyes and take another step closer to her. "Well, Bones here doesn't do hysterical."

"Bones?" The inquiry was accompanied by another smile that had flirtation just around the edges and was really starting to get on Booth's nerves.

Brennan shook her head primly. "You can't call me that."

Booth bit back a grin at the puzzled look on Santos and Thompson's faces. "All right, what's the deal here? You bringing in this Pavano guy or what?"

"There's already an APB out on him," Thompson replied soberly. "We've had him under surveillance for a while but couldn't get anything solid on him. Bastard does his dirty work without leaving any witnesses. But with Dr. Brennan's testimony, it's a whole new ballgame."

"Right." It sounded all neat and tidy, but Booth was already three steps ahead. "When you bring this guy in, what are the chances he makes bail?"

"It depends on the judge," Thompson said cautiously, he'd already caught the vibe between Agent Booth and his partner and he knew it spelled trouble. "You know that."

"Yeah and I also know there's a little thing called a probable cause hearing where the defendant gets to hear the evidence against him." Booth gave both men a hard look. "What happens when this guy realizes the only thing between him and freedom is one inconvenient eyewitness?"

"Booth …"

"No, Bones," he hissed heatedly. "This joker makes bail and you've got one big, fat target pinned to your back."

"Agent Booth, we understand your concern," Thompson tried to appease. "And I assure you, Dr. Brennan will be protected at all times."

"Really?" Booth threw him a scathing look. "Gee, I wonder why I'm not more reassured."

"Look, doc, your partner's right, this guy is a cold-blooded killer, but I promise you, we _will _protect you." Santos distilled sincerity out of boyish green eyes. "This is a bad guy, Dr. Brennan and the fact of the matter is that without your testimony we've got nothing. He messed up today, he messed up big time and you're the only one who can make sure he pays."

"Listen, pal," Booth growled, infuriated at the blatant manipulation. "You can take your mind games and—"

"This is not a game, Agent Booth," Santos hissed back, temper riding his high cheekbones. "You know how long we've been after this guy? Dr. Brennan's testimony will be crucial in putting this bastard away and I'm not letting you interfere."

Booth's eyes lit up and he felt on the verge of throwing a punch, he didn't even care it would be assault on a federal agent.

"Excuse me …" Brennan pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. Right smack in the middle of two pissed off federal agents, she distilled calm and composure. "Agent Santos, you seem to be under the misconception that I am in need of persuasion or that Booth can somehow dictate my decision. I assure you, neither of those is true."

Maybe not dictate, Thompson thought astutely, but he'd be willing to bet Agent Booth's opinion carried some serious persuasive value. Clearing his throat, he decided it was time to end the standoff.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan may be your partner, but right now she's our witness," he reminded politely, but with a hint of steel. "Professional courtesy only goes so far." It was a not so subtle reminder that he had been allowed to see his partner solely out of goodwill. "Now, I would like to talk to the good doctor. You can observe behind the glass if you want and you two can hash this all out after I've asked my questions."

Booth was sorely tempted to argue, but he knew it wasn't his case and he had no authority. He gave his partner one more glance, hands dipping into his pockets. He'd seen her and he'd talked to her, but he had yet to touch her. His blood ran cold just thinking of how ugly things could have turned for her in that park today and he wanted to run his hands all over her and reassure himself.

Instead, he turned around and walked out the door.

**-x-**

"You don't want me to testify."

"No, I don't want some killer coming after you," Booth corrected. "But I know you and I know what you're going to do, so there's no point in even arguing about it."

By mutual agreement, they'd decided to table the discussion until they got home, but Booth closed the door to her apartment and walked to the kitchen as if that was the end of the matter.

"I believe Sweets would term this, passive aggressive behavior."

Booth slammed the fridge door he'd just opened without even bothering to get anything out. "No, Bones, this is me trying to accept the fact you will be in danger for the foreseeable future."

"You know I can't just run and hide," Brennan said softly. "You know I have to do this."

"I know," he sighed, fingers tensing on the counter in resignation. "I know, dammit. But it's going to make me a little cranky that your ass is on the line and I can't do a thing about it."

Walking forward, she circled her arms around him, palms stroking the tense planes of his back. "I'll be careful," she promised, giving him a crooked smile. "And you know, I sleep with a very deadly, very dangerous FBI agent." He relaxed a fraction and she pressed a kiss to his throat. "Not to mention that Agent Thompson and Agent Santos seem perfectly competent, so I'm sure my—" she cleared her throat delicately—"ass will be just fine."

"Well, Santos sure as hell wants to do more than protect it," he growled, banding his arms around her waist and pressing her flush against him. "He'd just love to have a shot at you."

"What?" Brennan leaned back. "No."

"Yes," Booth replied with a confident shrug, his hands sweeping down to cup her jean-clad bottom in his hands. "Too bad for him, your perfect ass already belongs to me." She opened her mouth, to argue, Booth was sure, but he swooped down and kissed her. "Hey, my ass belongs to you too, Bones."

"How is that any less archaic?" she argued automatically, but he just laughed, hitching her up.

"I'm still evolving," he whispered against her lips, groaning when her legs closed tightly around his waist. He ran his hands over the curve of her back a little desperately. "I'm sorry I didn't come over last night. I should have been here."

"Don't you dare blame yourself," she ordered fiercely, cupping her hands around his face. "I will admit I found myself waking up earlier than usual because it would appear I have become accustomed to the various markers, such as warmth and weight, that indicate there is someone next to me on the bed."

"That's squint talk for you've become used to sleeping next to me, right?"

"However," she continued on pointedly, "that is simply a natural consequence of engaging in a satisfying, monogamous relationship. Thus, unless you regret such a relationship and would like to assuage your misplaced guilt by terminating it, then—"

"Oh, shut up," he cut her off with a self-deprecating eye-roll. "You've made your point and I've been properly put in my place."

Brennan smiled smugly and couldn't help another dig. "So that's a no on terminating our relationship, correct?"

"Funny," he growled, pushing off the counter with her in his arms. She laughed huskily and attacked the side of his neck gleefully. Her hands tugged at his jacket impatiently and Booth realized she was never going to get it off unless he released his hold on her. So he moved them to the couch and released his grasp on her hips, letting her tug the jacket off him.

Her hands went to his tie and she pulled on it enough to loosen the knot but didn't take it off. Instead, she buried her face against the curve of his throat, inhaling. "You smell so good."

"I want you," he gasped, immediately flicking her jeans open. "Right freakin' now."

Booth worked his hands inside the denim, pushing down the stiff fabric along with the softer one of her underwear as far down as her position on his lap would allow. Wedging a hand between her thighs, he found her clit and worked the soft bud in the tight, firm circles he knew drove her crazy.

She moaned gently and rocked against his fingers, her own flicking open his belt and fumbling with the buttons of his pants. Bracing his free hand on the cushion, Booth lifted a little so she could lower the clothing that was in her way. Instantly, Brennan palmed his erection, her fist closing and stroking him so damn good. He shuddered. She also knew what drove him crazy.

"C'mere." Grabbing her hips, Booth placed her over him and she dropped on his cock with a breathy little groan. He tugged up her shirt and flicked it off, hands spanning her ribcage as he dropped kisses over the seductive cleavage the bra created. Using his teeth, he tugged one skimpy cup down until he was able to tongue her nipple. Almost immediately, he felt her tempo increase and she began moving harder on his all too eager cock.

Over his shoulders, her hands grasped the top of the couch and she rocked harder. The pitch of her moans turned huskier and Booth tunneled his fingers in her unbound hair, tugging her down for a kiss. The noises she was making spilled into his mouth and he groaned softly, making the kiss deep and steaming hot. They were still kissing when she came, her eyes flying open, back arching and head dropping back on a gasp.

Booth pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, holding her tightly. He could feel how soaked she was, her core still clenching him and he was desperate for the kind of friction that sliding in and out of her would provide. When her arms wrapped around his neck, that was his cue to shift her under him on the couch.

There were too many clothes in the way, both her jeans and his pants tangled somewhere around their knees, but it was still the most delicious feeling when he pumped his hips in short, hard thrusts. Her fingernails scraped the back of his neck in that way that made his eyes roll to the back of his head and he moaned, thrusting away to orgasm inside her slick pussy.

"God, Bones, one night of not making love to you and I lose my mind."

She laughed, still a little out of breath, and smoothed her fingers through his hair. "This was very satisfying."

He gave her a grin, brushing back her damp hair. Frantic, barely half-naked sex on the couch had never been so gratifying. "I'm glad you approve," he murmured, brushing his lips softly against hers. "But let's try round two naked and in bed. You know, that way we can compare and contrast."

**-x-**

**Three days later …**

His ringing cell phone woke Booth up and made Brennan grumble sleepily against his chest.

He stroked her hair, encouraging her to settle back to sleep even as his free hand shot out and grabbed his phone.

"Booth," he whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible. "What? Are you sure? Right. Okay, thanks for letting me know. Yeah, I appreciate it."

"What?" Brennan mumbled, feeling the way his body tensed up beneath her cheek.

"That was Thompson," he said, nearly toneless. "FBI fished Pavano out of Rock Creek an hour ago."

"What?" She raised her head, tried to engage her sleep-addled brain. "He's dead?"

"Yep." Booth nodded. "Guess he pissed off the wrong person."

Brennan braced a hand on his chest, her voice soft and curious. "Are you happy he's dead?"

"I wish I could say I wasn't or even that it didn't matter one way or another, but we'd both know I'd be lying." His fingers tunneled in her hair, cupping the back of her head. "I'm not even a little bit sorry he's dead, but you know I didn't kill him, right?"

"I know." She settled back against his warm chest with a sigh. "Who do you think killed him?"

Booth shrugged. "I'm sure he had plenty of enemies." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and stroked a hand over her back. "All I care about is that you're safe."

He could honestly say he didn't know who had killed Pavano. But Booth was pretty sure he could guess, because he knew of only one man, besides himself, willing to kill to protect Brennan. And just yesterday he'd gotten a very angry phone call from him, demanding to know the FBI protocol for protecting witnesses.


	24. XRated

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

A/n: Oh, FF, how you try my patience! I woke up to a number of PMs letting me know the chapter was not there or something. All right, third and final attempt to upload the chapter! Hope it works!

I wanted this to be up by the time the new episode aired, but that little thing called life gets in the way. But here it is, an extra smutty fight, more smut than fight really, ha. There really weren't many options for X, so thanks to everyone who gave me suggestions. I think this was a fairly popular one and it was fun to write! Let me know if you could picture this, lol, 'cause I could! :)

Enjoy!

**X-RATED**

* * *

"Man, I've been meaning to watch this movie for a while."

"Why?" Brennan gave the DVD in his hand a slightly disdainful look. "I looked up the reviews …" Booth groaned, but she disregarded the sound. "… and they seemed lukewarm, at best, leading me to believe the quality of this film is dubious."

"Aw, Bones," he wheedled. "It's Penelope Cruz and Johnny Depp … what's not to like?"

"I don't know those individuals."

"Of course you don't." She didn't know Charlize Theron, why would she know Penelope Cruz? "Hey, now you will. I know how you like to learn new stuff."

"I fail to see the value in acquiring this particular knowledge."

"Now, Bones," he warned, opening his door and leading her inside. "You know it's my turn to pick the movie. And I didn't complain when you picked that documentary about the Papuan highlanders, did I?"

"That's true," she conceded fairly and it made her smile that he didn't even mispronounce the name. "Are we going to have popcorn?"

"Of course," Booth smiled too, handing her the DVD. "Why don't you go pop that in and I'll go make us some."

"I believe it's the microwave that makes it, Booth," Brennan couldn't resist pointing out, but she knew it would be her favorite popcorn. Just like she had his favorite beer when it was her turn to pick and he came over to her place for their movie night. Angela had begun calling it their date night and Brennan supposed in a way that was not completely incorrect. By most markers of a date, they were in fact engaging in that particular social construct. Though, they had yet to discuss it and of course, there was certainly no sexual component to their evenings.

With a slight frown, Brennan slid the disc into the DVD player, wondering if maybe it _was _time to discuss it.

After a few minutes, what appeared to be the movie's title came on screen and she blinked.

_Blow Me_.

That seemed incorrect. "Booth …" she called out. "What's the title of the movie?"

"_Blow_," Booth yelled from the kitchen. "Is it starting already?"

"I don't believe we were given the correct film," Brennan surmised, walking back and sitting on the couch, eyes trained on the TV screen.

"What? Ugh, I knew that kid had no idea what he was doing," Booth groused, abandoning his vigil of the popcorn in the microwave and heading for his living room. "What did he give us? I guess we'll just have to watch that, unless we want to go back and return it."

Brennan crossed her legs primly as Booth took a seat next to her, obviously trying to figure out if he recognized the movie.

It only took a few minutes. There was no big introduction and no attempt at a plot. Just an office with a businessman and a sexy secretary who immediately began taking off her clothes. A pretense of dialogue and some sexy music and it was enough for Booth to go ramrod straight on the couch.

"Oh my god," he breathed in horror, "is that …"

"It appears we were given an x-rated film."

"…porn?"

"_I know you want me to fuck you, but first, I want you to get on your knees and blow me."_

"Yep, that's porn," Booth confirmed on a groan. "No wonder that little punk was leering at us, he thought we were going to go watch porn!" Beyond annoyed, he sighed, "Well, guess we have no choice but to go back there, after all."

He was poised to get up, but Brennan reacted quickly, placing a restraining hand on his forearm. "Don't be so hasty. Maybe we should just …"

"What?" Booth gave his partner a disbelieving look. "Don't tell me you want to watch this?" Her silence was his answer and he hissed, "It's porn, Bones!"

"I'm aware …" Brennan's eyes moved back to the screen briefly where the man was receiving a very enthusiastic blow job from his secretary. "And I realize the entertainment value of such a film is highly stigmatized—"

"Because there is none!" Booth could not believe he was having this conversation. "It … is … porn," he enunciated precisely, automatically glancing at the TV and feeling himself blush at the suggestive image. "Jeez, I'm turning it off."

"Booth, wait, you're being quite close minded about this," Brennan insisted, aware how very inappropriate her suggestion was, but unable to prevent herself from making the argument. "It is true this type of film serves a highly specific purpose that is often socially condemned, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't have anthropological significance."

Booth sputtered his outrage. "You _cannot_ be serious." She looked so innocent in her pristine white blouse and high ponytail, and then there was that shiny lip gloss and he just could not believe she was actually, what, advocating or something on behalf of_ porn_.

"I'm quite serious." With a delicate shrug, Brennan smoothed a hand over her skirt. "Social mores may frown on the viewing of sexually stimulating behavior, but I see no reason to allow a judgmental and puritanical worldview to restrict my behavior."

"_Oh yeah … yeah, yeah, baby, just like that … yeah, take me deep …uuuhhh …yeah." _

The vocalization from the TV automatically made them both turn their heads to the action on screen. Against his will, Booth felt his body reacting to the visual and the sounds and the sudden mental image of his partner's glossy lips wrapped around his dick.

"No." He popped up from the couch, horrified by the way this whole evening was unfolding. "No. You know what, Bones, this is ridiculous."

"Booth—"

"No!" he repeated at his wits' end and more than ready to put an end to the discussion. "That is porn, okay, _porn_, you don't watch it for entertainment value, you watch it to get off, okay?"

Her eyes went wide in surprise at his candor, but Booth was too wound up to notice, much less sensor himself. He had recognized that tone in her voice that said she was willing to argue with him over this all night long and he was putting an end to this right now. _Right. Now. _

"You know what happens when porn is playing?" he hissed rhetorically. "You're either jacking off or getting fucked. That's it, all right." His hands slashed through the air in a way that said that was the end of the matter. "That's what happens and since we're not going to be doing either, we're turning the goddamn movie off."

"Well …" Brennan rose from the couch too, a little flushed and her voice suddenly breathy. "We can do one of those things."

A step away from the TV, Booth whirled around. His gaze crashed with her glittery one and he inhaled sharply. "Is that what this is about?"

"No." The response was automatic, but Brennan forced herself to admit that sex had been on her mind constantly since they'd started their movie night ritual. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I … I don't know," she admitted, taking a step in his direction. "I suppose it is not unreasonable to assume that sexual desire is an inherent component behind wanting to watch this with you." Her nostrils flared in annoyance. "I hate psychology."

"We're supposed to be taking this slow," he said softly and it was the first time either of them had acknowledged what was behind their dinner dates and movie nights. It was the first time it had been verbalized; this was more than just partners hanging out.

"I know." Another step forward and she was standing in front of him. "I just … I want you."

Booth's heart stopped at the way she said the last three words, whisper soft and almost shy.

"Me too," he whispered back, eyes closing for a moment just to stop himself from jumping her right there. "God, I want you too."

Booth opened his eyes again and raised a hand, flicking open the first button on her blouse. She didn't say a word, barely moved a muscle and he dragged down his finger, the pressure easily snapping open the second one. And then the next and the next until the blouse disappeared into the waistband of her skirt.

Silently, he walked around her and when he moved, Brennan saw there was a different couple on screen indulging in oral sex. The image was an arousing one but it was nothing compared to the heat created by the strength of him at her back. Her eyes slammed shut when his arms encircled her frame from behind and he untucked her top, snapping the last two buttons and tugging the material down. Expertly, his fingers found the front clasp of her bra and the skimpy piece of lace pooled on the floor silently, just like her blouse.

His fingertips just barely skimmed over the side of her body and her nipples hardened in reaction even though he didn't even touch them. Instead, he splayed a hand on her bare stomach, while the other hiked up her skirt.

"_Oh_." The breathy sound escaped softly when he palmed her through her underwear. And when his finger rubbed her clit over the satin, her head dropped back heavily against his shoulder. "_Booth_ …"

"I'm supposed to make love to you," he chastised softly, kissing her neck. "But instead there's a dirty movie on and all I can think about is your mouth on me." She moaned softly, moving her hips on his hand and Booth felt the silky fabric of her panties become simply drenched. "Ah, you're so wet." A whisper against her skin. "Is that because of the very naughty images on my TV, Bones?"

"Partly," she admitted, whimpering a little as he rubbed between her legs and sucked on the sensitive curve of her neck. "Also because … because …I want …I want to do that to you," she panted. Realizing her statement was relatively vague, Brennan felt the need to clarify. "I want to suck your penis into my mouth."

"Got it, Bones," he groaned, whirling her around and palming the back of her head. His mouth crashed on hers, tongue slipping between her lips. Taking that as permission, her hands flew to his pants, undoing the single button quickly. But before she could lower the zipper, Booth swept her up in his arms.

"W-what are you doing?" Automatically, her arms went around his neck, holding on as he moved to the bedroom without even bothering to turn off the TV. "I thought—"

"First I'm going to make love to you," Booth informed her, kissing her chin and carefully setting her on the bed. "Then you can play with my cock all you want."

For just a moment, arguing crossed her mind, but then he was rolling her on her stomach, busy hands quickly finding the zipper on her skirt. Fingers hooking on her panties and her skirt, Booth took them off her in one smooth slide down. Finally, he rolled the hair tie holding up her ponytail, spreading the brown locks on his pillow.

"God, you have the most ridiculously perfect ass." Mesmerized, Booth cupped the rounded curves, fingers squeezing the soft flesh. She was so fair, for a moment the imprint of his fingers marked her skin before slowly fading.

"It is just a product of genetics, Booth," she felt it was only fair to point out. "Much like the breadth of your shoulders or the curve of your mandible."

"You like my shoulders, Bones?" He smirked a little, quickly flipping her over and coming face to face with blue eyes that glittered at his teasing.

"They are okay," she shrugged casually and Booth grabbed her wrists, holding her arms above her head.

"Okay?" His lips hovered over the straining peak of one breast and the tip of his tongue carefully circled the areola. He gave the other one the same treatment before licking a path between her breasts. "Guess I shouldn't even bother taking off my shirt, then."

"No," Brennan moaned softly, back arching as she strained forward into his mouth. "Yes … I mean, take it off, Booth. Please, I … I want you naked."

Booth groaned, forehead falling against her chest. "You're killing me." He wasn't going to survive if she kept saying things like that and in that serious tone. All it had taken was that shy, earnest voice telling him she wanted him and he had crumbled like a shaky house of cards, his heart beating erratically.

Even the way she was unstruggling under him, even though he had imprisoned her arms above her head made his heart pound. He pressed soft kisses to her throat in appreciation of her trust, knowing submission was not in her DNA.

"Please," she whispered again, sensing his weakness and pressing her advantage. "I want to feel you against me …" He was pressing little kisses at the corner of her mouth and she captured his lips in a long kiss. "Inside me …" Another kiss, teeth scraping against his bottom lip. "All over me."

In defeat, Booth released her arms, quickly removing his T-shirt. Her hands took action as well, lowering his zipper and he flung his shirt aside and helped her remove the rest of his clothes. When he was naked between her legs, Brennan spread her palms over his chest and moaned her appreciation.

"Yes," he whispered, her hands on him absolutely devastating. "Touch me. Please." She ran her hands over his body, soft sounds dripping from her lips at the strength and heat of him.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long," she confessed and without thought, her nails scored across his back in possession.

Booth felt light-headed, his body sinking slowly into her warmth. He felt her legs lock around his waist and it sent him plunging inside her. She gasped and he captured the sound with his mouth, kissing her soft but deep, savoring the taste of her on his lips, the feel of her all around him; snug and warm and perfectly soft.

Needing to breathe, he kissed down her throat, surging into her in slow, languid strokes. He didn't think there was anything more erotic than the way her body arched into him on every movement, though her fingernails raking across his skin was a close second.

"Ah, Bones," he breathed hoarsely, nearly shuddering as he drove so deep inside her. "I knew making love to you would be so damn incredible."

"It really is," she rasped out, almost in awe. "God, Booth, you feel perfect."

He bracketed his arms around her, capturing her lips over and over again as he moved faster, hurtling them both towards one amazing orgasm.

"Bones … I … oh damn, protection …" he whimpered, his body plunging inside her again and again, unable to slow down.

"It's all right," Brennan soothed, legs locking tighter around him.

"Are you sure?" Booth asked in a tight rasp.

"I promise." She cupped one hand over his nape, murmuring against his lips, "I want all of you. Everything, Booth."

"You have it," he swore, fisting a hand in her hair, the other curving around one hip. "Only you get everything. It's always been you. _Always, always, always_."

He chanted the word and shattered into her. Pressing her face against the curve of his neck, Brennan splintered too, the orgasm beginning soft somehow and then building until she had to sink her teeth into his skin to make sure she was still tethered to reality.

It took her a while to climb down from the high, but once she did, Brennan realized just how hard she'd actually bitten. "I'm sorry," she murmured, pressing her lips to the indentation her teeth had left on him.

Booth gathered her in his arms and moved to his back, stroking his fingertips along the length of her spine. "It's fine." His voice was low and nearly shy when he confessed, "I liked it."

Brennan nodded, sighing at the soft touch along her back and his warm chest under her cheek. Her own fingers moved gently over his stomach, absentmindedly tracing the defined grooves of his abdominals. It made her smile to think that movie night had ended with an x-rated film on his TV and his perfect body in her arms. It made her shiver pleasantly, thinking of all that perfect flesh right at her fingertips. _Finally_. After so very many years, he was finally under her hands. She could touch him … everywhere.

"Bones?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know your brain works twice as fast as mine, but if whatever you're thinking makes you freak out, I'd like a little heads up."

"I have no plans to freak out," she assured him, placing a kiss on his chest for good measure. "I was just thinking that our x-rated film is probably still playing in the living room."

"X-rated film," he scoffed, but mostly on principle. "It's porn, Bones. Which I still can't believe that little punk gave us."

"I was also thinking …" Her fingertips danced across his stomach. "… that you said I could play with your penis."

He choked out a laugh. "Penis is not a sexy word, Temperance."

Brennan raised her head and arched an eyebrow. "Temperance?"

Booth smiled and shrugged. "Thought I'd try it out."

Refusing to be derailed, she traced a curious finger over his length. "Very well, I would like to play with your cock, please."

"Oh god," he groaned, laughing a little at her polite determination. "You can do whatever you want, Bones, but I'm gonna need a little recovery time here."

Moving to straddle his thighs, she took him in her hands. He wasn't hard but she didn't care, she was just curious. He was perfectly formed and fairly impressive, even in his satisfied state. Leaning down, she moved her lips over him, closing her eyes at the surprisingly delicate feel of his skin. "Mmm," she murmured, tongue flicking out to taste, swirling gently over the head of him. "Your taste and texture are very pleasing."

"Ah … thanks," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks blaze at her inspection. She was shaping and stroking and _licking_, for god's sake with that intense look in her eyes that said she was cataloguing everything in that genius brain with unerring precision. The blood that wasn't rushing to his groin was definitely going to his face and he could not believe that she was turning him on and making him blush at the same time.

"What's wrong?" Brennan caught the strangled tone and raised her head.

"N-nothing."

Her eyes narrowed, raking over his face and she noticed the color on his cheeks. "Booth, are you embarrassed?"

"Not embarrassed," he clarified because that was true, it wasn't embarrassment, rather just a little bit of chagrin that her almost clinical inspection was getting him so goddamned hot. "I just … I mean, no one's ever done this, Bones."

"You've never had anyone suck your pe … I mean, your cock?"

"What?" Now Booth just had to laugh at the horrified tone to her voice. "No, of course, I have." Where had he lost control of the conversation? "I meant, that no one's examined me like this before … you know, the way you're doing, Bones … all focused and intense and …" His voice faded off in alarm at the way her gaze clouded over. "What?"

"I'm sorry." Suddenly, she released him, hugging her waist in a defensive posture that had him sitting up in a flash. "I-I didn't mean to—"

"Bones … shit, no, that's not what …" She was still straddled across his thighs and he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. "God, I'm an idiot. Your squinty mode turns me on, okay? That's why I'm blushing, Bones, because I can't even believe how hot it is that you're focused on me with all that intensity you use in your lab."

"Are you lying?" Her gaze was vulnerable and suspicious.

"No," he said it firmly, grabbing her hand and closing her fingers around his cock, which was now rising much firmer between them. "Here. Do you feel that? I came so hard inside you, I should be wasted for hours, but your eyes and your hands and your mouth on me are making me desperate for more." Booth squeezed her hand with his own, their combined grip almost painful, but he was determined to make his point. "I do _not_ care what you do to me; I swear I just want more of it."

"I have a squinty mode?" He nodded solemnly and she clarified, "And you like it?"

Booth laughed softly, relieved that brilliant brain of hers was able to process so quickly. "Yes, so much." He peppered kisses across her shoulder, up to her ear and whispered, "Can I have more of it, please?"

"What do you want?"

"Touch me, stroke me, suck me," he listed hotly, releasing his hold and letting her take over. "Anything, everything, whatever you want, however you—ah!"

Brennan gave a tight stroke with one hand and placed the other one on his chest, giving him a firm push back. Booth pushed the pillows against the headboard so he could lean back and watch every single thing she did to him.

Leaning down, her mouth closed around him without hesitation and he nearly came out of his skin. "_Damn_ … Bones …ohhh." Her hair spilled forward and he reached out, pulling back the shiny brown locks and keeping his fingers twined around the strands. "Oh my God."

Warm and wet, that sexy mouth glided up and down his length and Booth realized she was a genius at other things that had nothing to do with science. The flat of her tongue followed the underside of his shaft on every slide and he gasped, struggling to keep his eyes open. It was tempting to slam them shut and just feel, but watching her suck him was making him even harder.

Brennan said she wanted to play with him and that's what she did. Long sucks, light nips, tight strokes, soft licks … there was no method to the madness, just her going to town on him and doing whatever the heck she wanted. When she cupped his sac in a gentle massage and worked her lips on just the very tip of him, he was ready to pass out.

"Oh, god, Bones, _please_, _please_…" He sounded drugged and didn't care. Booth had lost all track of time, had no idea how long she'd been tormenting him, but he knew he was done. "I can't, I can't … I'm gonna … ohhhh!"

She took him deep, sucking hard and he broke. The pleasure spread from his gut to every inch of him before arrowing back to spill into her mouth. Even though her hands gripped his hips tightly, he still bucked uncontrollably as his body shuddered. For one crazy second everything was dark and Booth wondered if he'd gone blind. Realizing his eyes were squeezed shut, he opened them again, blinking rapidly.

An indistinguishable noise—half whimper, half pant—left his mouth as she kissed her way up his body, draping herself over him and looking down at him. "Bones …" he wheezed, lips curving up in a dazed smile. "Wow, Bones … I … wow."

She gave him a soft, pleased smile, even as her eyes sparkled smugly. Dang, she was cute. And damn, but with her draped naked over him giving him that saucy look, he felt like a million bucks.

"You still owe me popcorn and a movie," she informed him, leaning down and brushing his lips softly.

"Oh, you mean porn doesn't count?"

"Of course it does …" Brennan was perfectly serious. "But we didn't watch it."

"Fair enough, but just so you know, I was joking."

"Oh." She pouted. "Does that mean you won't watch an x-rated film with me?"

Laughing, Booth kissed her pout away. "I will, but you gotta stop calling it that."

"That's the correct designation," Brennan defended.

"It's porn, Bones."

"X-rated film is more accurate.

"Porn…"

"X-rated …"

* * *

**-x-**

**_p.s. Oh, almost done! I'm aiming to have this finished before the season finale, so give me your Y words and we'll get this party started! :) p.p.s. Is FF even letting you read this? AAAhh!_  
**


	25. Years

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Ah, thanks for the creativity with the**_ Y_** words, you guys are made of awesome! Enjoy!

**YEARS**

* * *

_Booth looked around for his partner and didn't find her. When he asked one of the guests if they'd seen her, he really didn't think anything of it when he got a smirk. Throughout the course of the evening, Booth had realized that smirking was the preferred mode of expression among this crowd._

"_I believe I saw Dr. Brennan head towards the balcony with Dr. Stires__**.**_"

_Maybe if he'd thought anything of that pretentious smirk, Booth would have been better prepared when he opened the frosted balcony doors and found her kissing another man. And not just any man. But that smug asshole who'd tried to make her look bad on the stand._

"_Am I interrupting?" It was an icily delivered question. _

"_Of course not." Her eyes flickered but he couldn't tell if that was guilt or apprehension or just plain surprise. "I'm ready to leave, Booth. Are you?"_

"_I'll wait in the car." Booth turned on his heel, afraid he might actually punch Stires if he looked at him another moment. "Take your time, Bones."_

**-x-**

"You're angry."

Booth didn't bother with an answer. He kept replaying the last few minutes of that dinner benefit in his head and it made him feel capable of ripping the steering wheel in half.

"Refusal to talk is very childish, Booth."

"I've got nothing to say," he gritted out, flooring the accelerator, hoping to expedite the ride to her apartment. Lucky for him, it was barely a ten minute drive and before she could say more than his name again, he was pulling into her parking garage.

"Can you please come up with me?" Brennan asked when it was obvious he had no intention of doing so. "I would prefer we talk about this."

"Nothing to talk about."

"I cannot believe you're angry with me." Her lips firmed in annoyance. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you blaming me for Michael's actions?"

He'd been determined to keep his cool, but now he couldn't help whipping his head around to glare at her. "Are you fucking kidding me? I opened those doors and you were fucking kissing him!"

The repeated cursing indicated his outrage, but his words triggered some of her own ire. "I was not!" She unsnapped her seatbelt in a flurry of indignation. "He was kissing me. There's a difference. You walked in before I could even react!"

Booth scoffed. "I've seen you elbow a guy in the gut for standing too close. But he has his mouth on you and you can't react," he sneered. "Right."

"It is unacceptable that even after all these years you don't trust me!" she breathed furiously, slamming out of the car.

He'd meant to drop her off and get himself home before he'd strangled her. But now, he stormed out of the car as well, her rage a fuel to his. "I trust you with my life and you damn well know it!"

"No! That is not what I meant and you know it!" Angry color flushed her cheeks, their raised voices especially loud in the quiet parking garage. "Do not play stupid with me, Booth."

_Dumb_, he thought automatically. _Don't play dumb_. But he didn't bother to correct her because the word was raking across his skin and drawing blood. "Oh, it's not an act. I am stupid," he hissed. "Stupid about bones and stupid about fancy words and stupid about _us_, apparently."

He had felt slightly out of place most of the evening, in a big fancy mansion surrounded by PhDs and geniuses, but what really made him feel like an idiot was the thought that maybe he'd been deluding himself these last few months.

"You know, all these years, everyone that came before …" Booth paced, words rushing out like a geyser. "It didn't really matter because we were too afraid, right? I mean, it wasn't fun watching you date two guys at the same time or go out with my brother, but—"

"And you think it was fun for me to see you with other women?" she retorted heatedly. "My boss, for example?" That it was the first thought out of her mouth told her that one had stung more than she had cared to admit at the time.

"Really? You wanna go there?" Booth could not believe her. She had dated _his_ boss even after he'd asked her not to.

"I never slept with Andrew."

"Before … before doesn't matter, Bones," he repeated hotly. "I thought … I thought we were past that …" Booth laughed bitterly. "I'm an idiot. I mean, it's not like we've made any promises to each other or anything like that, right? Burning a couple of pieces of paper was just some stupid superstition you don't even believe in, after all."

She blanched, the urge to hit him actually making her fists clench. "Are you trying to drive me to physical violence?" Her words pulsed with anger and she actually moved forward. "It's been very many years since I've felt the urge to strike you."

"Take your best shot," he invited, chin tilting forward defiantly.

"Booth," she said warningly, the words coming out through gritted teeth. "I was not kissing Michael."

"You know what, it doesn't matter," he tossed out, recklessly. "You're free to kiss whoever you want." God, he was pissed. Booth wanted to let her words soothe his anger, but all he could see was male fingers tangled in her hair, her soft curves pressed flushed against another man's. "Hell, feel free to call him up and let him go at you all night. I don't care."

She didn't slap him, but she shoved him hard enough to send him stumbling back. "Damn it, I've been waiting for _you_ for years!"

"And you got tired of waiting, is that it?" He was on a collision course with self-destruction and couldn't seem to stop the train. "If I'd come looking for you five minutes later, what would I have walked in on?"

"I'm done defending myself!" She nearly screamed it, before her tone went ice cold. "If you insist on thinking the worst, then maybe I'll just give you an actual reason to do so."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, his voice harsh. "Do whatever the hell you want." Some part of him was screaming to calm the fuck down, but he couldn't, not when her stubborn chin lifted, those gorgeous blue eyes gleaming with purpose.

"I will," Brennan threatened and at the moment, she was angry enough to almost mean it. "I will invite a man over, I won't even care who, and I swear, Booth, by the time the night is over, he'll have made me forget all these wasted years."

She spun away from him and her beautiful evening gown spun with her. Like his, her aim was dead perfect and he just lost it, his body reacting without his brain's permission.

With a growl, Booth closed his fingers over her elbow, whirling her around, crashing her body against his. "And _I_ swear," he snarled. "If you let somebody else touch you, I'll kill him."

"No!" she hissed back, her fists pounding on his chest. "You don't have the right. There's nothing between us. No promises, remember?" she tossed right back at him. "Nothing but stupid superstition and stupid, meaningless years. I can do whatever the hell I want."

"In one way or another, every year I've known you, I've needed you, and I've wanted you, and I've loved you." His fingers gripped her shoulders, shaking her a little. "Even when I didn't know it or I tried to pretend it wasn't you I needed, I fucking did. Don't you dare tell me those years were meaningless."

"They are meaningless. They are, they are, they are," she taunted right in his face. "They mean nothing, you mean nothing. Our partnership, our friendship, wanting you, needing you, trusting you … it all means nothing—"

The stream of angry words ended up in his mouth. He slanted his mouth over hers and for a moment she went soft against him. But then, Brennan yanked herself back and out of his grasp, looking at him with desolate eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

"Nothing, Booth," she repeated hoarsely, taking a step back. It was a step away from him and he tensed in denial. "If you don't believe me when I tell you I did not want to kiss Michael. If … if after all these years you don't believe me, then yes, they were utterly meaningless."

With that, she turned to walk away and he wanted to run after her, but felt frozen in place. "That's it? You're just walking away?"

She didn't stop or turn back to him, but Booth heard her clearly anyway. "I've got nothing to say."

The words landed like a slap and he nearly winced. She was suddenly making him feel guilty and it infuriated him. _He_ had caught _her_ with another man. _You know that's not true_, his brain reminded him and he cursed.

Booth stormed back to the still running car, reversing out of the parking space with a scream of burning tires. Anger and self-recrimination made for one hell of a cocktail and he slammed his hands against the steering wheel.

_What the fuck?_

They never actually said it, but Booth could have sworn they were together. For months now, he had been certain of it. Yeah, they weren't having sex, but he knew what they were doing. He thought she knew it too.

_Late night dinners at her apartment with soft jazz music and candlelight. _

_Watching a movie on his couch with her curled up in his arms. _

_Taking her ice skating and holding her close even when they both knew she was in no danger of falling. _

_Slow dancing with her in an empty Jeffersonian even though there was no music playing._

God, it couldn't have all been make believe. Damn it, they were amazing together. And they made each other happy. Not just surface happiness but real, wake-up-with-a-smile-on-my face and bone-deep contentment happy.

The thought that it could all end with one disastrous fight was ludicrous. But then, her words echoed in his head and the devastated look in her eyes flashed in his mind and his blood ran cold. Because it didn't seem so ludicrous to believe he might lose her before they actually verbalized all the things they'd been communicating silently for the past several months.

_Son of a bitch. _

He made it less than a block before he turned the car around.

**-x-**

Brennan sat on her couch, feeling almost shell-shocked.

Tears ran down her cheeks, unbidden and she brushed them away on a shuddering breath.

_Damn him. How could he not trust her? _

Admittedly, it probably hadn't been the best idea to walk with Michael into that empty balcony. But they had been engaging in an animated discussion over the latest bone de-fleshing technique and Brennan had barely even paid any attention where they were going. Even when he had closed the doors behind them, she had merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow and scoffed. She could hardly believe that after all these years, Michael thought they might actually resume their sexual relationship, but then he had been right in front of her, his hands shooting out and pressing her into him. Her body had tensed, preparing to give him a good shove and in that one second, her partner had walked in, his voice arctic in its coldness.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it. _

The night had spiraled into insanity so quickly, Brennan felt dazed. It seemed surreal that only a few hours ago Booth had picked her up, his eyes going wide when he saw her, his fingers brushing her softly curled hair back. He had leaned close, whispering how beautiful she looked and flushed warmth had raced through her.

Brennan had wondered if maybe tonight, once he took her home, his arms would go around her and his lips would touch hers and the fancy clothes they were both wearing would end up on the floor of her apartment.

The pounding knock on her door made her jump out of her fantasy and she frowned. It wasn't difficult to guess who was at her door; she actually recognized the way he knocked. Ignoring him crossed her mind, but Brennan was too rational to engage in such tactics.

She opened the door, her face impassive, but Booth took one look at her and knew her composure was nothing but a mask. Though barefoot, she was still in her evening gown, her pretty heels dangling from her fingers. She didn't step back to let him in, just looked at him with red-rimmed eyes.

_Aw, damn it, she'd been crying. _

"Just tell me," he rasped out, shoulders stiff with tension. "All these months … have I been fooling myself?"

"Does it matter what I say?" Brennan shot back bitterly. "Are you even going to believe me?"

"Damn it, Bones!" He propelled forward and she finally took a step back, letting him in. "I walked through those doors and he had his mouth on you … yeah, I'm gonna be pissed." Booth paced away for a moment before facing her again. "Would you put yourself in my place for just a moment? How would you feel if you saw another woman with her arms around me, her lips on mine?"

Brennan's lips tightened. "Admittedly, it would be unpleasant. But I would believe you if you told me it was _her_ kissing _you._" Her voice turned brittle and her arms went around herself, those shoes still dangling from her fingers. "You don't trust me. Even after all these months, all these _years_, you don't trust me."

"I do," he said immediately. "Damn it, I do trust you." Booth took a deep breath, knowing some harsh things had been said and he was mostly to blame. Looking her straight in the eye, he answered his own question. "I know that a few minutes later and I would have walked in on Stires on the floor with a busted lip."

"And how long did it take you to come to that conclusion?"

"Probably longer than it should have," he sighed honestly. "Would you like me to do the math?"

"Yes, please."

Booth nodded, calculating time—opening the balcony doors, driving to her place, and then the point in their argument where he'd realized he had lost his mind, even as he couldn't seem to stop himself from doing so. "About fifteen minutes. Give or take."

"All these months," she repeated stonily back to him. "Have _I_ been fooling myself?"

Booth inhaled and took a step forward. "_No_. No way, Bones."

"Because you said I was free to kiss whoever I wanted. That I was free to call—"

"Temperance …" He said her name quietly, his gaze unwavering. "The only man I want you to kiss, or ..." Booth added, recalling some of the reckless things he'd said. "Do anything else with is me."

With a thud, her shoes dropped from her hands and she was moving to stand in front of him. "It's been a number of years since I've had any desire to kiss anybody but you."

"I'm sorry I was an idiot."

"An illogical, jealous idiot," Brennan corrected decisively.

"Yes," he conceded solemnly, raising his hands and cupping her face. His thumbs brushed the outer corner of her eyes and this close, he could see faint tear tracks on her face and it made him ache. "Ah, hell, Bones, I made you cry," Booth whispered hoarsely.

"You did," she agreed in that direct manner of hers. "I was quite distressed as I did not envision our night ending so poorly."

"I'm so sorry. I trust you, Bones, I do. I know you weren't kissing him … I was so caught off guard and I lost my mind for a moment there. I'm sorry, baby," Booth whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "I want to be the reason you smile, not the reason you cry."

"I recognize that interpersonal relationships have the capability of generating emotional distress." Her hands rested on his chest, feeling his slightly accelerated heartbeat. "However, I am willing to accept those instances because I believe the good things about our interpersonal relationship far outweigh any negatives."

"I'm glad you think so." Embracing her, he pressed his lips to her temple. "I do too. Sometimes, it feels like we're not even speaking the same language, but—"

"We are always speaking English, Booth."

"Too literal, Bones." He could see in her face she immediately understood his meaning and he smiled. "My point is that even when we take different routes, we end up at the same place. Most of the time." Gently, Booth brushed his lips against hers. "And that place is pretty damn awesome."

"And what place are we in now?" The words were serious and flirtatious at the same time in that unique way that was all hers.

"The best place," Booth murmured, enjoying the way she swayed forward, brushing against his lips, again and again. "The one where you're in my arms. I've been dreaming of this place for years, Bones."

"Booth …"

Her lips parted and her hands wrapped along the collar of his white dress shirt. With a groan, he slanted his mouth against hers, one hand cupping the back of her head. She groaned too, tongue darting into his mouth and her grip reminded him heatedly of the way she'd held on to him that year Caroline maneuvered them under some mistletoe.

Unconsciously, his hands fisted her hair and the kiss became wild. Other than holding her, he'd barely touched her these past few months and now felt ready to devour her whole. Releasing her mouth on a gasp, Booth moved his lips to her neck, scattering deep, sucking kisses. Her head tipped back in encouragement and he ran his hands all over her.

The feel of her perfumed skin under his mouth was making him feel nearly intoxicated. That might have been why his hands roved over her back, finding the zipper of her dress and bringing it down, without any real thought. They both gasped when the dress pooled on the floor, leaving her standing in front of him in silky, black underwear.

"Oh my god," Booth rasped, eyes frantic. "Bones … I …oh, jeez, you're so beautiful."

"That was very impressive," Brennan praised, she'd barely even felt him tugging on the zipper and then the dress was flowing down her body.

"I didn't … I'm sorry … oh, wow, so pretty," he breathed, mesmerized and half-horrified at the way his hands had undressed her without his mind's permission.

"Thank you." Her smile was soft and pleased and she brought her hands behind her back, releasing the clasp of her strapless bra.

"_Bones_," he choked out, watching the bra fall to the floor. Booth saw her fingers hook on her panties and he reached out, placing his hands over hers. "You're gonna give me a heart attack. I don't …maybe we should … you're, um, yeah … and I … oh, Jesus Christ, I can't think."

"What is it that you wish to think about?"

"Well …" He let out a strangled chuckle. "We were just kissing and now you're … ah, naked and …um, soft and oh, hell, you smell so damn good …" The words ended against the side of her neck, his mouth pressing a line of kisses up to her jaw and claiming her mouth again.

Brennan moved her hands from under his and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Briefly, she wondered what he had done with his jacket and bowtie but then she was pushing the white fabric aside and the only thing on her mind was getting him naked as quickly as possible. The grip he had on her hips didn't allow her to discard his shirt all the way, so she grasped his wrists, moving his hands.

Finally realizing he was half naked too, Booth raised his head from the curve of her neck. Her palms stroked his chest, followed by tiny kisses and he moaned softly, feeling like putty in her hands. "In about two more seconds, I won't be able to stop touching you," he panted, closing his eyes when her tongue flicked out and grazed one nipple. "Bones, are we really doing this?"

"Well, I'm trying, Booth, but apparently, you insist on thinking," she murmured, running her nails down his stomach and toying with his belt. She flicked the buckle and unzipped him, but he grabbed her wrists before she was able to lower his pants.

"Not so fast." Eyes glittering, he dropped to his knees in front of her. Pressing a kiss on her stomach, Booth traced his tongue over the edge of her panties. "It's not fair the way you're driving me crazy here." In one move, he was tugging down her panties, baring her to his gaze. She stepped out of them and Booth ran his hands up the back of her thighs until he palmed her bottom. "No fair, Bones."

His tongue snaked out, dipping between her folds. She cried out and braced her hands on his shoulders. Booth hummed at the sweet taste of her, gliding his tongue over the top of her clit. The angle didn't allow him to really penetrate her body, but he laved her slick folds in deep swipes and then used the tip of his tongue to flick her tiny bud, side to side.

"Oh, that's good," she gasped, tunneling her fingers in his hair.

Booth could only agree, she was like honeyed cream around his tongue and it was making him crazy. "So sweet and slick …oh, Bones …" He murmured his appreciation against her sex, gasping when she tugged on his hair, drawing his mouth away from her.

"I want you inside me," she breathed, her blue eyes so dark they were like midnight. "Take me to bed, Booth."

His own eyes darkened and he rose from the floor, his hands on her rear end hauling her into his body. Brennan automatically locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, her breasts pillowing against his bare chest.

Booth turned around, heading for the bedroom and leaving behind her clothes and his shirt in a pile on the floor. He laid her on the bed and while she flicked the covers out of the way, he got rid of his pants and briefs.

Brennan moaned a little when he settled over her and his hand stroked up her side, palming one breast. His mouth closed over the tip in a gentle suction that made her grip his hair in encouragement. His lips felt firm and warm as he kissed the valley between her breasts, before tracing his tongue over her other nipple, already puckered in anticipation.

"Booth," she breathed huskily, winding her legs around his waist and arching into him. "I need you."

With a shift of his hips, he was buried deep inside her. She felt amazing and he raised his head, realizing he was bare inside of her. "Bones, oh, hell baby, I don't have a condom with me." Just the thought of removing himself from the warm haven of her body made him want to weep.

"I … I believe I have some in my bathroom, but we don't need one, Booth."

"We don't?"

"Well, not on my account." Her gaze turned pensive. "Of course, if you have any health concerns that—"

"No, Bones," he choked out, a little horrified at the timing of the conversation. "None. I just, I wasn't sure you …"

"It's fine, Booth," she reassured, scraping her fingernails gently along his back and arching under him. "You feel so very good. You fit me perfectly."

"Yeah, I do," he agreed, moving experimentally and groaning from deep in his chest. "Jesus, you're like hot silk, so fucking amazing." It had been nearly a decade since he'd had unprotected sex and Booth could not believe the feeling of vulnerability and trust that moving inside her, without any barriers, created. Plus, it just felt goddamn fantastic. She was soaked and exquisitely snug, so much that he tried to temper his thrusts afraid he would hurt her. "Bones, oh god … baby, you're very tight, please tell me if I'm hurting you."

"You're not." Brennan nearly laughed at the suggestion; she was more than ready for deep, stroke-into-me-over-and-over-again-until-I-scream sex. "It's just been a very long time."

Her words gave him pause and Booth remembered what she said earlier. She'd been waiting for him. For years. It made him shudder. He'd thought she'd been his for months, but maybe she'd really been his for years.

Very softly, he kissed her mouth, trying to convey all she made him feel. He had to admit he'd been hers for years too. Sometimes, it felt like she had taken possession of him from day one.

"Tell me what you like," he whispered softly, carefully tracing his tongue over her bottom lip. "I want to make this so damn good for you."

"It is good," she gasped, enjoying the way he was sliding in and out of her, stretching her out deliciously with every stroke.

"Tell me."

"Kiss my breasts, please." If he wanted direction, she was more than willing to give it to him. "Suck me. The way … ah … the way you did before. Soft but not so much that I can't feel the pressure."

Immediately, he obeyed, kissing teasingly around her areola before sucking gently. Her feminine moans washed over him, offering encouragement and guidance. Booth alternated between each perked breast, testing and toying with the silky soft flesh. He could tell she liked a soft, steady suction, but also the scrape of his teeth right across those sensitive pink nipples.

"Oh, yes," she gasped gently, cupping the back of his neck, her body bucking beneath his as he applied the exact perfect pressure. "Yes, oh, that's … that's so good."

Her nipples were dark and glistening from his mouth and a shiver raced through him. His cock throbbed and he pushed through her softness with a rough groan, her walls tight and so very hot around him. He was pulling out of her slowly; trying to savor the feeling, but every thrust inside was getting less and less measured.

Nipping at her throat, Booth trailed a hand down her body, smoothing a finger into her and applying pressure to her clit. "What about here?" Brennan let out a little whimper and he sucked a little harder on her throat. "Show me, baby. How do you like to be touched?"

A delicate little growl escaped her throat and she snuck a hand between their bodies, settling her fingers over his and increasing the pressure. He moaned against her throat and rubbed her in tight, hard circles. She removed her hand, letting him take over all on his own and her core began to clench around him in a rush of liquid heat and fluttering muscles.

Brennan arched into him, the movement pressing her breasts against his chest and exposing the line of her throat. His name tripped from her lips in breathy little murmurs that were nearly incomprehensible as they turned to harsh moans. White heat exploded inside her, permeating every cell and she closed her eyes, trying to stay balanced on that delicious crest of pleasure. He kept thrusting inside her, no longer controlled, his rhythm fast and hard now, riding her body through her orgasm and into his own.

"Fuck, baby, yes, yeah, yeah, _yeahhh_," he groaned, his voice hoarse and desperate. She was all satiny skin and sweet, welcoming body and Booth came hotly inside her, buried to the hilt and shuddering at the pleasure.

Aware his entire weight was collapsed on top of his partner, Booth mustered whatever dregs of strength he had left and dropped to his back next to her. His chest rose and fell in exertion, heartbeat pounding wildly. He could hear her choppy breathing too and though unable to move, he turned his head on the pillow, facing her profile.

"Hey …" Booth brushed the back of two fingers over her shoulder in a small caress.

Brennan's head lolled to the side to meet his gaze and she gave him a sleepy, satisfied smile. "Booth, that was …"

"I know," he rumbled in a husky, post-orgasm voice that made her smile widen.

"You," she panted softly, "take direction very well."

Booth chuckled and turned sideways, bending an elbow and propping his head on his hand. Raising a finger, he ran it down her cheek. "Oh and you give direction so very well." She laughed softly and he traced the shape of her lower lip, entranced by the way she looked, all soft and flushed and relaxed. "You know, when I first met you I thought you were so beautiful, but somehow, you get more beautiful every year."

"That's unlikely," Brennan denied, but she scooted closer to him until she was able to brush a kiss on his shoulder. "But very, very nice."

"It is likely." Booth wound a hand through her hair and kissed her gently, but thoroughly. "Bones, hey … our partnership is completely personal."

"I know."

"I just … I wanted to say it. Out loud, you know," he clarified. "Let's go on a date tomorrow."

"I thought we had been on numerous dates already," she said carefully.

"Yes. But we never called it that." And maybe that was fine before, but some things should be said out loud. "For a lot of years, there were a lot of things we didn't say, Bones, but you know, this …" He brushed her lips on the word. "This is worth saying out loud."

"I understand." Brennan smiled under his lips, closing her arms around him as he rolled over her, dropping tiny kisses over her mouth. "Let's go on a date, Booth."


	26. Zone

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Le sigh, final chapter of this story. It was tough to come up with a word, so thank you for all the suggestions, this one was particularly popular and I hope it's a good conclusion to this story. This story has been so much fun to write and I hope you all enjoy this last chapter!

Special thanks to_** Sheytune**_, who allowed me to go right ahead and smutty BB up with these fights. And to **_Dispatch_**, who has so often given the muse a swift kick in the pants when it needed it and is always free to listen to my ramblings! :)

**ZONE**

* * *

Angela watched Booth and Brennan through the diner window. She saw Brennan look at her watch and say something and Booth nodded, getting up from the table. She saw him take a few steps and then hesitate as if he wanted to turn around and say something else, but instead he just walked out.

With a sigh, Angela crossed the street. She really wished Brennan had canceled their lunch date for sexy time with her partner. Except she had the sinking suspicion that whatever they were doing, hitting the sheets wasn't it. _What the hell was holding them back?_ It's not like Brennan could get pregnant again. Angela had been shocked when her friend told her she was pregnant a few weeks ago and Brennan looked so happy that Angela figured they had worked things out. But, after watching them the past several weeks, she'd come to the conclusion that they were … regressing. That was the only word she could think of. Regressing right back to just partners, except with a baby to make things extra quirky. She was convinced those two would never do anything the easy way.

With focused determination, Angela walked to her friend, kissing her cheek before taking a seat across from her. "Hey, sweetie, was that Booth I just saw leaving?" she asked, knowing perfectly well it was.

"Mm, yes," Brennan replied distractedly, picking up the menu. "We're trying to coordinate our schedules so that we can go to my next obstetrics appointment together."

"Right." Angela narrowed her eyes and took the menu away from Brennan to get her undivided attention. "Bren, do you know what the friend zone is?"

"What?"

"The friend zone," Angela repeated patiently. "There are different definitions, but basically it's this place where two people become friends and stay just friends. You know, even if they're attracted to each other and they realize there should be more between them, they get to this place, the friend zone, and they're just stuck there."

"Angela, what are you—?"

"You and Booth, you've been stuck in your own little weird version of that. For years, Bren, you were in the partner zone, you know," she sighed, shaking her head. "And now, after I figure you guys are finally out of it, you go from the partner zone to the parent zone without skipping a beat."

Brennan laughed a little, but it was an uncomfortable sound. "The parent zone?"

"Yes," Angela said softly, her gaze direct and unblinking. "Just two people raising a child together, even though they should be a lot more." She allowed Brennan to process her words before asking directly, "Everything you feel for each other, is it going to get swept aside again under this new label?"

The question should have been ridiculous because how can you sweep anything aside when you're going to have a child together. But if there were two people capable of accomplishing the task, it was Booth and Brennan.

"No, of course not," Brennan whispered, her gaze vulnerable as Angela verbalized the fears she hadn't been able to admit even to herself.

"Then why do I see you two acting as if you're just partners who just so happened to be having a baby together?"

Brennan's gaze trailed away, before returning anxiously back to her friend. She swallowed and chewed on her bottom lip, unable to answer Angela's question.

**-x-**

**Two days later …**

Booth suspected something was wrong from the moment she opened the door. It was soon confirmed when the take-out food he'd brought for them was nothing but an untouched pile on her plate.

"What's wrong?"

Brennan raised her gaze and he almost expected her to prevaricate, so he was fairly surprised when she blurted out, "I don't want us to be in the parent zone."

"Uh, what?"

"The parent zone," she repeated as if expecting him to recognize the words. "We can't …" In agitation, she pushed away from the table. "We can't go from the partner zone to the parent zone, we can't."

He pushed his plate aside and rose from the table as well, circling her carefully. She looked a little bit wild-eyed and he wondered if she was freaking out about the baby. "Bones, I mean, we will be parents," he said softly. "I know it's scary, but—"

"I'm not scared, Booth, we'll be exceptional parents." Brennan paced a little in frustration that he didn't seem to understand what she was saying. "But just because we will be parents doesn't mean that we have to be stuck in this parent zone, right?"

He frowned, realizing that her freak out wasn't baby related, but unable to pinpoint the problem. "I … Bones, what's this parent zone you keep talking about?"

"It's like the friend zone," Brennan explained, briefly wondering why he seemed to be so confused. It all made so much sense when Angela had explained it to her. "Except we're having a baby, so it's really the parent zone and we're just, we're … you know, Angela explained this so much better."

"The friend zone?" he whispered, a glimmer of understanding beginning to filter through.

"Are we … are we going to be partners who just so happen to be having a child together?"

"_What?_" He was aghast because now he got what she was talking about. Friend zone, parent zone. No brainer. "Why would you even think that?"

"Why?" Brennan gestured to the table. "Because here we are, having late night take out, but I know that you're leaving after. Just like you left after we finished our paperwork last week and after we watched that silly movie last night."

"Hey, that was a classic," he defended automatically, but it was only half-hearted. "And I don't care what Angela says, we're not going to be stuck in any zone, all right."

"I think we could be." Her chin jutted out defiantly. "It's safer, right? And it's human nature after all, to prefer certainty and safety over potentially risky situations."

"Bones, the friend zone only applies when there's no sex involved. I think we can safely say, we've stepped out of that zone already."

"Have we?" she challenged, eyes firing up. "Because last time I checked, we weren't having sex, Booth. In fact, the last time we had sex was—"

"Believe me, Bones, I know how long it's been," Booth interjected, voice going a little husky just thinking about it. Last time he'd touched her had been right before they'd gone undercover at the bowling alley. It'd been two weeks, four days and a few hours. Not that he was counting or anything. "I didn't realize you were … um, concerned about not … that is, I didn't know if you wanted to … I mean, you haven't said anything and I thought that maybe, with the baby, you might want to, you know, slow things down a little."

"Are you under the impression that pregnant women give up sex?" She was genuinely curious.

"What? No." Despite it all, he nearly laughed. "Of course not. I just … I thought, maybe …" Booth huffed out a breath and then admitted, "I wanted to give you space."

"Space?"

"Yeah, I mean, Bones, look, a baby is life-changing and it's wonderful, but it's also scary and stressful and I didn't want you to feel overwhelmed," he confessed softly. "You know, a baby and our brand-new relationship and work, that's a lot of stuff to juggle."

"I haven't been feeling overwhelmed," Brennan said. "I've been feeling worried."

"Worried about what?"

"That we've been acting like we're just partners again," she whispered in a quick rush of words.

"W-we haven't … have we?" Except, he knew they had because that was their safe mode. They had both been processing and adjusting to the fact that they were going to have a baby and while they did so, they'd gone right back to the one thing that always brought them together: their partnership. "Damn it. Unbelievable."

"Angela calls it the partner zone," Brennan offered quietly. "I don't want to be back there again."

His gaze snapped to her and he crossed the small distance between them, hands shooting into her hair, mouth slanting down on hers. She was taken aback, but only for a moment and then she was kissing him back, arms looping around his neck and holding on tightly.

"You couldn't pay me to go back there," Booth murmured huskily against her lips. "I swear, no more zones or lines or anything between us, Bones. Jesus, I can't believe …" His words faded against her lips and he picked her up and sat her on the table next to them. He used a hand to push plates and half empty take-out boxes to one side. Brennan tugged up his shirt and then raised her arms, allowing him to do the same to hers.

Booth swallowed, pausing for a second to admire her pretty, pale yellow bra barely containing her luscious breasts. He traced a fingertip over one strap and the edge of the bra cup before smoothing his hand over her still flat tummy. He could hardly believe there was a baby in there.

"Booth, w-what's wrong?"

His mesmerized gaze flicked up. "Nothing," he smiled, settling between the spread of her thighs. "Nothing's wrong. Hey …" He cupped her chin, thumb rubbing her soft bottom lip. "You know I love you, right?" She nodded gently, turning her head to kiss his palm. Booth circled his arms around her, hugging her close. "So much. I love you so much, there's no way that I can ever go back."

The words were followed by tiny kisses over the side of her neck and Brennan moaned softly, clutching his bare shoulders. "Yes, I don't want to go back."

"We're not," he promised darkly, his kisses turning deeper on the pale length of her throat. "Not ever." His splayed hands smoothed up her back, flicking the bra clasp open and peeling the garment away. When she spilled into his hands, he growled. "So goddamn gorgeous. I want you. I want you so badly."

She pushed into his hands, groaning in pleasure. Her nipples peaked against his palm and he lowered his head, sucking one dusky pink bud. He could tell that her breasts were just the slightest bit bigger since the last time he'd touched her. She was lush and ripe and it made him ache and harden like a rock. He switched his attention to her neglected breast, moaning a little as his mouth closed over the stiff little peak. God, she had perfect breasts, they were round and firm and if her panting breaths was any indication, ultra sensitive.

"Booth …" She writhed against his mouth, scraping her nails down his stomach and snapping open his jeans. "Ohhh, yes …. I want …. oh, more, I want to be closer …"

Gasping, Booth wound an arm around her waist, lifting her a little and using his free hand to drag down her comfy pants and thin panties. She kicked them off and yanked down his own clothes, just far enough to wrap her fingers around him. Her strokes were just this side of rough and it felt so damn good. With a raspy sound, he sealed his mouth to one perked nipple again, sucking hard as his hand cupped her bare sex, middle finger dipping between satiny slick folds.

With a low moan, Brennan arched and released her hold on him, her hands bracing on the table behind her. His mouth felt so hot, tonguing her like crazy and sucking as much of her flesh as he could into his mouth. Her head tipped back in delirious pleasure and her hips bucked up, her clit throbbing with every pass of his finger. He rubbed her slickly, up and down, up and down, and she panted harshly, the delicious sensation twisting inside her without relief.

"So hot," Booth husked against her damp skin. His tongue swiped out, licking a path between her breasts and he scattered gentle, tiny nips over her curves. He couldn't get enough of her, the way her breasts felt soft and silky against his mouth, the way her nipples strained, wet and flushed, seemingly desperate for his lips. "So sweet, so tasty, so damn perfect."

"Oh, oh, touch me, touch me," she whispered frantically, even though he was. The way he was still rubbing silkily between her legs and showering sucking kisses and little bites to her chest had her vibrating right on the edge of an orgasm. "I need you, Booth … I need you."

With the words, Brennan pushed forward, finding his erection and winding her legs around him. She guided him to her core and he groaned from deep within his chest, thrusting into her. He buried himself to the hilt and she shuddered.

"Bones," he breathed, withdrawing on a groan and surging back in with a deep moan. "Baby, oh god …"

"_Yes_," she gasped, fingernails digging hard between his shoulder blades. "More."

Her teeth sank on the curve of his shoulder, the slight sting joining that of her nails on his back and it sent his body into overdrive. Up until now, it had always been sweet, gentle sex between them. The kind that left you feeling languorous and lazy after. But now his hands braced next to her hips on the table and he pounded into her again and again. It was fast and frantic and when she pulsed around him and he exploded into her, there was nothing languid about it.

For a while, there was nothing but pounding heartbeats and great inhalations of air. "Well …" Booth panted through his still labored breathing. "I think we blew any kind of zone Angela can think of right out of the water."

"Oh my god, Booth," Brennan laughed, feeling ridiculously giddy and breathless. "This was very unsanitary."

It was true that they were sticky and damp and he still had her on the dinner table, but he had to groan at her common sense response. "You're supposed to tell me I rocked your world, not be concerned with hygiene."

"I can do both," she said primly, before smiling wide and dropping a line of kisses over his jaw and to his mouth. "By the way, you rocked my world."

"That's more like it," he murmured against her lips. "And I think mine is still rocking 'cause that was freaking fantastic."

Carefully, he moved away, groaning a little as his body slipped from hers. Booth pulled up his boxers, but kicked off his jeans completely and then spanned her waist, helping her get down from the table. Her legs felt unsteady and she swayed right into his hard, bare chest. Automatically, his hands curled around her waist and he smiled down at her.

She was naked and soft in his arms and absolutely adorable even as she chewed her bottom lip in consideration and a little frown appeared between her brows. "Maybe we should wipe down the table."

Booth only laughed and scooped her up in one quick move. "I think it can wait 'till tomorrow."

She thought about arguing but then settled in his arms. Brennan had to admit that despite her modern, enlightened views, the way he picked her up as if she weighted little more than a feather made her stomach clench a little. Her head rested on his shoulder as he moved to the bedroom and she trailed her fingertips over his clavicle.

"I'm glad you're here," she said softly, turning to face him as he joined her beneath the sheets. "I'm glad you're staying."

His smile bloomed, wide and bright and he snuggled her against him. Two soft, happy sighs escaped at finally finding themselves in the right zone.

* * *

**-x-**

_**p.s. I know the incentive to review the last chapter of any story is relatively low, but this is my first real take at new canon, so I'd love it if you fought the urge to lurk. Love it or hate it, I'd like to know :)**_


End file.
